For the first leg of my sabbatical, I went home to Costa Rica to spend 2 months with my dear parents. I also had to start working on my SABBATICAL LIST OF GOALS ™!
Living abroad for so many years made every minute I could spend with my parents so much more valuable. I have switched from saying “my parents are getting older” to “my parents are old now”. As I knock on every wooden surface I can find around me at the moment that I am typing this, I look to avoid years of regrets when I wished I would have spent more time with my parents.
My parents seem to be aging at a more constant pace now, there is no way to sugar coat it. Every time I come home to Costa Rica, I sense the differences – the paces in which they are walking are slightly slower, their memories aren’t as clear, and their loving faces would be adorned with just a few more wrinkles than my last visit.
No amount of advancements in my career were worth me not being more present during their advancements in age. No promotion, pitch win, award, client or campaign would be worth it.
I desire to spend more coffee breaks with my father, engaging in conversations about politics, the arts, culture, and our shared background. I yearn for more late-night chats with my mother, listening to Hong Kong Cantopop from the eighties, watching old Food Network shows, and indulging in nostalgic memories. These precious moments significantly enhance my presence in their lives.
In recent years, my father has developed a keen sense of fashion. The other day, I remarked to him, “I don’t remember you being this stylish when I was a kid!” “I only wear these clothes on special occasions, not in my daily life,” he replied. It hit me like a ton of bricks – our coffee dates, and even just being home with him, were special occasions to him.
This realization prompted me to prioritize a lifestyle that would allow me to visit home more frequently. I understood that it was my responsibility, and mine alone, to design such a lifestyle.
A Red
Encounter.
Last year, during a trip to Lisbon, I stopped by a small restaurant near my hotel for a late-night snack and a beer. A friendly middle-aged man named Red sat down next to me, and we struck up a conversation. As he shared stories of his travels, I couldn’t help but wonder how he managed to travel without a job. Despite feeling it might be rude, fueled by a bit of liquid courage, I eagerly asked him, “How do you afford to travel for the entire year without needing a job?”
He smiled. The reason why he could semi-retire and travel the world without any economical worries was because he had created financial “legs” in his life.
As we chugged another tiny Super Bock beer, I asked: “please tell me more”.
His concept of a financial leg encompassed any source of passive income that generated money without requiring active effort. Examples included real estate and investments. In essence, these were ventures that involved some initial risk or work but continued to generate income over time without ongoing effort.
“Ok, but I have nothing like that”, I told Red.
To which he replied: “well you will need 3 of these legs, like a stool, for utmost stability”.
I was fucked.
Red would want to spend more of that night together, to which I politely declined and ran off to disappear into the night. But he had given me enough to think about.
What will be my financial leg(s)?
Rushing Into My First Leg:
Unattainable Goals.
Red’s notion of financial “legs” had me sweating bullets. Three legs for utmost stability? Suddenly, I found myself on a quest to discover what could prop up my financial stool. I’m not much of a risk-taker, so spoiler alert: it probably won’t be real estate or stock investments.
I’ve mentioned my SABBATICAL LIST OF GOALS™ several times in this blog, and now I’ll delve a bit deeper into it.
My approach to creating a “financial leg” would likely involve leveraging my skills and hobbies to generate passive income. I started by making a list of my skills and hobbies, considering how I could monetize them. For example, I enjoy illustrating, so perhaps I could create posters or postcards to sell. Additionally, I’ve been teaching design for over eight years, so why not develop an online course that I only need to record once, and then generate income through a subscription-based system? These ideas got my creative gears turning.
Then there’s my “Big Momma Money Maker.” For years, I’ve envisioned writing a book based on my life experiences and insights as a woman in advertising. With numerous journals filled with stories to share, it would be a source of pride for myself and, hopefully, somewhat inspiring and entertaining for others.
My plan was to start writing it during my stay in Costa Rica and even finish it within these two and a half months! However, as I began sifting through my years and years of journal entries and babblings, I felt overwhelmed. What had I gotten myself into? And could I really finish it in just two and a half months?
The journey to that literary masterpiece was riddled with panic-induced Word document stares and a healthy dose of imposter syndrome. Two and a half months to write the next great literary piece? Challenge accepted, anxiety ensues.
I had become accustomed to the relentless pace of my career, where tight deadlines were the norm, and I set the toughest deadlines for myself. It took a moment (or several) of self-compassion to realize that maybe, just maybe, I didn’t have to conquer the literary world in record time. I started allowing myself moments to pause and appreciate my surroundings more – taking little field trips to immerse myself in the beauty of Costa Rica, enjoying coffee dates with myself, and cherishing quality time spent with my parents. It was a journey of self-discovery and self-care, embracing the present moment and finding joy in the simple pleasures of life.
Conclusion.
As I navigate the labyrinth of self-inflicted pressures on my sabbatical journey, I’ve come to realize that sometimes the biggest obstacle isn’t the lack of time or resources, but the weight of our own expectations. So, I’ve made a conscious decision to lighten the load.
As I sit here, surrounded by unfinished manuscripts and taking clumsy first steps with my financial legs, I can’t help but laugh at my hastiness. Sabbatical pursuits, it turns out, are a bit like a fine wine – best enjoyed slowly, with plenty of room for unexpected flavors and a generous splash of humor. Here’s to breaking the shackles of self-imposed pressure and embracing the delightful chaos of it all.
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