Back in October I left my career in the nonprofit world and took a huge leap of faith. I had some plans and big ideas, but it was all going to take time, and I was no longer going to be living in the luxury of convenient, consistent bimonthly direct deposits. Long gone are the glorious days of the 1st and 15th of every month. But also, long gone is the pain of organizational politics and my teeny tiny box, the one that I had unconsciously created, jumped into, and where I’ve held myself captive for far too long.
Aside from the uncertainty of my future, I knew one thing for sure: I needed to get the mother ef out of Orange County. Let me explain. I do love Orange County. Truly blessed to have been raised in San Clemente, the once small—but still amazing—“Spanish village by the Sea,” and having spent much of the past seven years in the almost equally beautiful and quite possibly more adorable Laguna Beach community, there will always be a special nook in my heart for that place.
That said, and throughout my colorfully peppered career, I took every opportunity to bounce—and I’m talking across the world. I was always looking for something…else. But for the first time, I felt a strange and unfamiliar calling to stay local(ish) and make my way up to the Pacific Northwest. Every time I’ve taken “time off,” it has been with an overflowing pack strapped to my back, bouncing from hostel to hostel, showering embarrassingly infrequently, and/or peeing in a hole in the ground. This was different; I was craving time, space, comfort, nature, solitude.
So. There I was: Paycheck-less (and thank goodness rent-less—temporarily, at least) in an itty bitty Gilmore Girls-esque town in Washington, with a lot of books and a lot of time. Yay! I’m out of my box! The world is my oyster! And that was about all I knew. It was both incredibly liberating and excruciatingly terrifying. I had no idea what to do or where to start, so I just did. Stuff. I read. I wrote. I hiked. I worked with my life coach. I attempted photography (my new camera made a brief appearance but is now back in the box—it just stares at me). I took road trips. I read some more. I had visitors. We played. More visitors. More play. More books. Lots of books. Oh, and NATURE. The most breathtaking display of Mother Earth I have ever seen.
Fast forward three and a half months to today. I have some income. It doesn’t quite pay the bills, but the work I do nourishes my soul and fills my heart to the brim—and then some. I continue to do all those same aforementioned things, but the list has grown…and seems to get longer by the day. And I know that this wouldn't be the case if I didn't give myself a little time. Time to just BE. People often ask me, “Don’t you get bored up there? What do you do all day?” I hadn’t really come up with an answer that felt right until now: I am creating my own life.
I've been listening to Elizabeth Gilbert’s newest book Big Magic on Audible, which is all about fearless creative living. I’ve been surprised by how much I’ve enjoyed it so far, but I really have. She talks about the importance of creating—anything and often—without fear, pressure, expectation or judgment. She says that we don’t need a permission slip to live a creative life, to stop worrying about creating something “important,” and to just “go make stuff.” She literally said, and this is a direct quote mind you, “You wanna draw a penis on your wall? Do it.” That might be the most profound thing I’ve heard in a long time, and I am only half kidding. It’s kind of amazing if you really think about it.
So next time someone asks me what I do up here all the time, I am going to say that I am creating my own life. Because that’s exactly what I’m doing. For so long I’ve felt like there was this menu of “career options” and I had to choose one, but I’ve tried on quite a few over the past ten years or so and they just don’t seem to fit. For the first time in my life, I am truly living outside my box and creating my own menu—not just for a career, but for a life. And a really big, juicy, sparkly one at that, oozing with 100% pure Jamie-ness.
Now, I don’t yet know how I’ll start making more money, where I’m going to live or what the future holds for me and my big dreams, but I do know that I am officially—albeit sometimes blindly—steering my own ship…and it feels really good. It’s still pretty scary for me and I’ll likely stumble a lot along the way, but if all else fails, at least I know that I have a surefire back-up plan:
I can always just draw a penis on the wall.
A very special shout-out to all you brave souls who have helped pave the way for a creative life, sharing your own passions and unique gifts with the world. Your courageous spirits have inspired me beyond words.