Happy Thursday, writer friends,
A special welcome to those of you who’re joining us from Twitter and/or Instagram this week.
Here’s a bit about my writing and publishing journey so far if you’re interested in learning what I’m all about.
Anyway, on with the show.
At the beginning of April I launched Operation One Big Holiday. It’s basically a life experiment I’m running, and I needed to give it a catchy name because (1) I need to keep myself amused at all times, and (2) I wanted to get my 11-year-old son involved.
I realized a few weeks ago that in my twenties, my life used to feel like one big holiday. I was a digital nomad before the term became popular and with no fixed address, no fixed schedule, no fixed partner, and no fixed employment, I was as free as a person in the world can be. With that freedom could have come stress, but I don’t recall ever worrying about missed deadlines, not making enough money, or what career success would look like. I lived on the road and yet I got all my work done, I made money, and I felt like I had all the time in the world.
One. Big. Holiday.
Now I work from home and do have all the time in the world. Still, I constantly feel under pressure, at the mercy of a ticking clock. I’m stressed when there’s no need to be, under pressure despite living a life I chose, that I love. I worry endlessly about tomorrow instead of enjoying today.
I wrote a few weeks ago that I was changing my relationship with toxic deadlines and that I was no longer available for the experience of a ticking clock and a racing heart when I write.
Operation One Big Holiday is an extension of that. It’s my attempt to go back to that feeling in my twenties when I was hustling like hell to get my career going and yet, every single day of my life felt like a long, extended, never-ending holiday. I was writing in hotel rooms. In coffee shops. Outside (and inside) pubs. In taxis. On the street. In the park. At friends’ houses. During weddings. While hiding out in mall bathrooms.
During much of that time, I was spending hours in cyber cafes and emailing my writing to myself. It never felt like I was compromising one aspect of my life to make room for another because I wasn’t. I was doing what I loved—writing, traveling, meeting people, exploring the outer world, exploring my inner world. And because I was young and the laptop life hadn’t yet become a fad, I didn’t have preconceived notions of what this life needed to look like, or what the challenges were. I didn’t know all that could stand in my way, and so it didn’t.
Now, I’m aware of far too many things that can stand in my way. And they do.
I believe that what my life looks like at any given moment may not always be my active choice, but it is my responsibility. If it’s not working, it’s on me to fix it.
I’m not interested in a life where work and life are separate and clearly demarcated. Where I have to wait for holidays or weekends or time off to relax. Where I wake up each day with a predetermined schedule. That’s not true happiness or freedom for me.
So I’m fixing it. I’ve embarked on Operation One Big Holiday.
Watch this space for how it’s going.
Cheers,
Natasha