I’m working on my new book and keynote furiously right now. Every minute I’m free, I’m opening the document to make the next tweak or incorporate the next bit of feedback. I have these lightbulb moments and run through our house like I need to go pee only to jump into my office chair to furiously start typing. 

I’m so close to being done that I can almost picture the book in my hands. The colorful cover my incredibly talented girlfriend designed. The weight of the pages. That special sensation of opening something I love so much - books - to find my words. I imagine opening it up to a perfect quote or one-liner at an event where I’m the keynote speaker. 

It’s a weird sensation to reflect on your life and experiences years after they happened in a format you intend to share with other people. As opposed to the conversations I have with my therapist or friends in private, I keep feeling this sensation to ChatGPT my work - to make it more sterile, more palatable for corporate America. That’s my audience after all - people who know work is toxic and actually want to change that on their teams. 

But the lens is me. The filter is van life. And changing how you live your life isn’t always easy. 

It’s not all sunrises and lake views. I know the rom-coms and novels of our collective youth made taking a leap into the unknown look like magic. It’s just not. It’s hard and complicated. Lots of moments that don’t feel #grateful. 

But the more I sit with these stories and try to explain how they changed my views on work and my life, I find myself reading the first chapter about how I ended up in a van over and over again. I was so close to never having this experience. I could have made the lists and ideated about it all forever without packing up all my stuff and moving into 80 sq feet. 

Two powerful words that might not mean so much to you changed all that: why not? 

This question, while simple in its structure, opened a complicated maze I simply never imagined. It gave me a moment of freedom. It offered permission to say yes and operate in contrast with every rule I wrote for having a good life. It allowed me to see that all the rules I wrote for myself about living a good life and being the best in corporate America were often in contrast to actually enjoying my life. 

These rules, self-imposed in almost every dimension, were not giving me permission to live like I thought. They were a guarantee that I would be exhausted, overwhelmed, and constantly searching for what’s next. 

I didn’t realize it at the time, but letting go of that control to take on a wild adventure was preparing me for living in a time like this. While I feel the weight and wish the world was different, it’s a little bit easier for me to recognize what I need to let go of, when I need to keep striving, and what I actually control. All while letting myself feel it all. To go slower. To say no more and change with all the gusto in the world. Because really, why not?