I guess I just got to a place where I was so discontent with my life that I was willing to do anything to change it. I was working sixty hours a week as an electrician, and taking twelve units at San Diego State University. I had been able to juggle that schedule for two full years with no breaks. It caught up fast, and I crumbled under the pressure. I stood at a turning point, a crossroads in life, and asked myself if there was all that much to gain from such an absurd existence, and if so, was it even worth it?
I barely survived my late teens and early twenties, and I think that the rigid structure that I incorporated into my life was a survival mechanism. I needed that structure. I needed stability to build a foundation that I could rely on. Once I was established and on stable ground that obedience and allegiance to the status quo was not sufficient for providing the happiness that I wanted in life.
I set off on a journey of self-discovery with the classic existential questions in mind: Who am I? Why am I here? What’s the point?
This is a narrative that has been popular for over 2000 years. Look at the passage that Siddhartha underwent, or the resurrection of Jesus. Resurrection–that’s the motif. Part of me needed to die so that I could live.
So here I am… a few years into my quest–single, impoverished, often hungry, and unemployed. I have never been happier. My fingers are swollen and cut from crack climbing, my feet are a little jacked up from being scrunched into climbing shoes for days, my clothes are torn from thrutching in offwidths, my teeth are probably rotting out from living off snickers bars, and I’ll be living in a Subaru all summer.
I’m in the defying convention business—I didn’t come here to play seduko–I embarked on this journey to experience a deliberate existence.
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