When I left my old organization, I tried to explain to people I cared so much about why I was leaving. In the end, I used the lame excuse “it’s not you, it’s me.” While it was lame, it was true. Others could handle the hustle and bustle, the daily demands, the multiple headspaces, the constant anxiety and worry… I couldn’t. Or perhaps more honestly said, I didn’t want to. As I may have mentioned, I wanted simple peace.
After three years, the charm of my new life has worn off in places. At first, it was just so amazing to be home all of the time. Everything felt so good and special. My own kitchen from which to get a cup of coffee. Kitty belly rubs in the middle of the day. Conference calls in front of the fire or on the back deck, depending on the weather. I mean, who could ever get tired of that?
In a way, I haven’t. In another way, it did become less special. Life always strays towards the routine. So, while for the first three years, it seemed like everyday was a new exploration of my new life and new-found freedoms, it’s now routine. And with routine – and in winter – it could lead to the winter blahs. Candidly, I’m so prone to the winter blahs that it doesn’t take much at all to get me there.
But then, I take a step back and remind myself about what’s different now. And then I remind myself to take advantage of it. This week is a perfect example. A friend is home from Maine taking care of her father. Because she has a very closed bubble and we’re basically in hibernation, we’re having dinner at our house tonight. Since I’ve been craving a good, old-fashioned WNY fish fry, I’m actually making it from scratch rather than ordering takeout. The result? Well, I’m really enjoying the creativity. We have a recipe for sweet potato (and regular) “oven” fries from the cookbook, “Run Fast. Eat Slow.” I found my mom’s beer-battered fish fry recipe. And I’m on the hunt for a good spicy sweet coleslaw recipe. My husband is queued up to make whiskey sours and my house is a little cleaner than it’s been in awhile.
In my past life? I would have ordered out. Or done something simple on the grill. We would have forgotten to get the whiskey sour supplies and would have settled on a beer or a glass of wine. The house would have been “picked up” but not clean. I would tell myself that it was all “good enough,” and truly, it would have been. I mean, my friend’s known me since we were both six months old. She’s not going to judge and we would have an awesome time together anyway.
Yet, having the ability to truly make it special is very satisfying to me. It takes a day that in my past life would have been spent putting out fires and completing tasks and turns it into a creative adventure. I will get the opportunity to escape into online culinary adventures for awhile as I look for the coleslaw recipe and I got a little connection back to my mom when I found the fish recipe. My husband gets to get his bartender skills on. And mostly? We get to anticipate a really great night with one of our best friends.
That, straight up, is what’s different about my life. I did okay in the other life. I truly did. For a long time, I was happy, fulfilled and energized by the challenge of problem solving and leading. But today? It’s just not me anymore. The things that bring me fulfillment are great relationships and the time to enjoy them. It truly wasn’t anyone else who caused me to take the off-ramp from the executive life three years ago; it was me.
I couldn’t be more proud of myself.
The Yuppie Homesteader 