Lesson #1: Chaos does not = adventure

On pausing entrepreneurship + how to make life last longer.

I used to think that chaos could be equated to adventure.

Predictability felt boring to me. And the idea that one could project their career to the point of pension plan payments sounded terrifying. A lot like having a bird’s eye view of the entire timeline of your life from start to finish. Kind of like the ones we drew on chalkboards during elementary school history class, spanning from the period of the dinosaurs, to the 90’s. But instead of the invention of the Google scrawled at the end of the board that meets the wall, it would be the end of my life. Scary. No, thank you. I’d rather live in the dark, ready to fight or flight from whatever popped up around the next bend. Ready for adventure.

Fittingly, I also never had a month-to-month budget, to the dismay of my career accountant-Father. Clients came and went, exciting projects fell into my lap and I just couldn’t possibly predict how much (or how little) money I’d be making every single month, I told my Dad earnestly. Writing off imaginary funds to a soul-sucking domestic category in an Excel budget (aka ‘groceries’) or an emergency fund was simply not an option, I insisted. And so I truly just rolled with it, reacting as the adventure unfolded in front of me. For the most part, it worked. In this case, an ‘abundance mindset’ really showed its worth, working for me and my entrepreneurial career for almost ten years. Despite sitting on the edge of most couches and a (very brief) experiment adding a sprinkling of Adderall to my morning latte (which, by the way, functions to reverse any hangover and catapult you into your highest functioning self immediately). This was also, I must add, before I discovered what the word anxious meant.

I was happy though. And I was engaged with my career; my main outlet for adventure and risk. But my work was also the most interesting thing about me. I imagine this to be a trait of other people lucky enough to channel their passions/talents into a job. Lucky to a point. Because, while I felt this to be deeply redeeming at the time it was also, honestly sometimes, sad. This sadness can be contextualized by a conversation that took place once upon a time in a dimly lit bar with a certain friend-of-a-friend, recognized for mastering West Coast outdoor hobbies in incredibly cool Arc’teryx and Patagonia fits. Between sips of IPA, he posed the dreaded, “So, what do you do for fun? On the weekends?” question, nonchalantly. My answer, Soul Cycle (the truth), felt inadequate. I racked my brain for another hobby and quickly swapped in ‘running’—the more admirable of the two, I figured. It was a lie. Was I not fun? Shit.

The upside of this was that my work was fun. However, this imbalance weighed heavily on my nervous system.

The point of this all…

Lesson #1: Moving fast makes time pass quicker

Learned by doing the opposite in the name of slowing down with the Joneses of my second home. Lesson #1 of what I learned from moving to a developing country and almost never coming home: moving quickly–and chaotically actually makes your precious time in this life go by faster. Does this mean that perhaps your life becomes shorter as a result of living this way? I believe so.

Photo credit: @wheretonext_film

Out and about in my tropical home, rarely was I asked what I did for a living, first, when meeting new people. I found thrill and adventure in extracurriculars that consisted of a newfound love for surfing—my first daily activity that rendered peeping at my phone notifications impossible. Hey, perhaps Soul Cycle was on to something. Next on the fun roster was dancing after dark to reggaeton and long morning walks with my best friends that often stretched into homemade coffee and banana bread. My career took a hit, for sure. I wasn’t available after 5 pm like, ever. Oftentimes, I also wasn’t available around the two-hour mark before and/ or after high tide (IYKYK). Flashback to sprinting out of my Vancouver gym to answer a call, mid-treadmill run.

While I did eventually find a happy medium between those two schedules, what I truly learned was that a healthy dose of adventure dispersed throughout all of the sectors of your life is more fun than piling it all into one. It’s also more sustainable and doesn’t lead to a feeling of heartbreak when something goes wrong at work. Or on the flipside, counting on a DJ you and your friend bought tickets to see this Friday as being the ultimate release from all of life’s stressors or else.

I gave up entrepreneurship and to be honest, I feel zen AF.

I want to disclaim that from the bottom of my heart, I respect those who have been, are currently, or are dreaming of becoming entrepreneurs. I have no regrets for my ‘doing it’, but right now, I’m deeply appreciating a life not run by it.

If moving fast makes life pass quicker, I find the contrary to also be true: sinking into moments makes time last longer.

If moving fast makes life pass quicker, I find the contrary to also be true: sinking into moments moments makes time last longer. The more mundane the moment, the better. Moreover, this speed allows you to make better decisions, since you have to spend more time in them. Ironically, this has made me better at my (first 9-5) job, and more detail-oriented—a trait I’d always written off as being ‘not my thing’. And for the first time in my life, I can predict how little money (ha) I will make month to month. Tbh living within my means has been weirdly therapeutic and zen, and I don’t feel the urge to buy a new iPhone or pair of Hokas YET. That being said, the urge to create something new has been creeping up on me. For those who create or innovate, you know that trusty lull before the next idea takes over? I’ve been feeling that lull coming to an end soon. Historically speaking, the calm before the storm. Only this time it feels different—in a long, nourishing dock sit before jumping off into the deep end, kind of way.