On my second to last day in Nepal, I was reluctantly ferried to a restaurant with a large group of white people and basically trapped in a large room where we waited 2.5 hours for the main meal to be served while generally being sold alcohol and goaded for donations by actors who half-assedly performed traditional ethnic dances. It sucked.
In the midst of that time, I also reluctantly conversed with a couple from the States and their friend. After the couple left to catch their ill-timed flight, I had few options: talk to their friend, talk to the hooligans from the larger group nearby, or sit awkwardly in silence. I kind of preferred the latter, honestly, but the leftover friend and I struck up a conversation naturally at some point.
But I made the mistake of mentioning that I had been to Nepal in the spring to hike the Annapurna Circuit, which prompted Leftover Friend to ask, “Wait, so you’re back here again in the same year? How did you manage that?”
I explained how I had saved up for years and then quit my job in January. I also explained that my budget allowed for two big trips.
Two things came from this. Leftover Friend mentioned, somewhat awkwardly that he barely had enough money to take a year off, and he had been working for….20 years. His occupation? Insurance project manager.
“Holy shit,” I thought. “That sounds like a job that pays pretty well!” But…20 years?
Honestly, it doesn’t surprise me. Americans generally suck with money, which is a shame because we have so much of it. It’s strange going to Nepal and seeing so many smart, capable people who earn very little simply because the vicissitudes of history, economics, and geography (with a heavy dose of corruption). It doesn’t seem fair. But for as wealthy as Americans can be, they so rarely have anything to show for it.
And to be fair, I don’t know Leftover Friend’s story. We could talk all day about what might or might not have caused him to need to spend so much money. But there are only so many people earning a high income who legitimately need to spend all of it. I didn’t get the impression any of those might have applied to this guy.
It just makes me tilt my head and wonder what people are thinking. I know it’s schadenfreude to some extent. I try not to be a dick, I really do, but I’m simply amazed at how so many high earners live paycheck to paycheck. At very low incomes it makes perfect sense, I totally get it, but at high incomes? What the heck are people thinking?
And then the second question came: “So what else have you done with the rest of your time, if you don’t mind me asking?”
Well, I’ve done a lot of hiking and even some snowshoeing early in the year. I spent a few days in a cabin in a nearby town just to chill and check it out. And uh…
…uh…
I don’t really know. I’ve read a lot, and/or watched a lot of educational stuff. Watched lots of econonics and economic history early in the year, read several technical books, a decent amount on Buddhism, learned the Tibetan script.
But the way I explained it didn’t go very far. Leftover Friend’s response was, “Interesting”. When he mentioned he might finally be able to take a year off after 20 years, he said that it would feel like kind of a waste to do that at his point, since I guess it had taken him so long and it would be a shame to cash out on that after 20 years. But there was also an edge of, “So you haven’t done much with your year off, huh?”
It has definitely been a smattering of accomplishments, not strong and powerful. It’s not like I bagged a ton of certifications for my career, backpacked across Europe, or completed a degree.
At heart, I’m really okay with that. In the months leading up to my first trip to Nepal, I was absolutely swamped with paperwork concerning first COBRA from quitting my job, then an ACA plan, and the stupid processes that different providers implement to get you started. There was also the passport application process, which I hadn’t realized would be a such a pain with pandemic precautions. So there was absolutely nothing restful about that time.
Once I returned from my first trip to Nepal, I took a long time to get motivated to do anything. When I did, I realized that Japan was too busy with its head up its ass, so instead of planning to go there, I made plans to return to Nepal. A month or two can fly by pretty fast. There was maybe a week or two where I made several appearances at my parents’ place to help them prepare to move, but in general, aside from the reading and somewhat frequent hikes, I did hardly anything productive at all.
And that’s okay.
I can’t emphasize enough how we all live in the shadow of the Protestant Stupid Ethic. There’s this idea that work and busyness are good and leisure and relaxation are bad. We say this, then we turn around and sign up for three mid-week church activities. I played some of those games in my 20s, but I’m never going back. We funnel our teens into three extracurricular activies on top of a job and dealing with the shit-show of being a teenager, just so they can pad their college applications to get into the “best” colleges, because I guess you can’t succeed in life unless you are highly pedigreed (*cough* bullshit *cough*).
Naturally, when taking an extended break from work, you’re supposed to talk about your passion project or all of the things you did for your future job. Because not having a job is otherwise unacceptable, you must give penance to the future.
I flew across the world twice to trek in the Himalayas. I read books. I went on hikes. Otherwise, I stayed up late and slept in late. I played a lot of Fortnite. I played some other video games. I took walks. And otherwise, I pretty much did nothing.
I don’t have to apologize to anybody, but I often feel like I do, because true leisure just isn’t culturally acceptable. I only spent time learning because I love learning, but it was fairly scatter-brained, I just kind of let my interests go wild. I made the critical discovery that I don’t actually enjoy application programming that much because I simply never spend time programming applications. I basically did what I wanted to do, and that was some valuable insight.
I do plan to write about some of the lessons I’ve learned this year, but don’t ever listen to me if I say I had some deep, profound, kick-ass year packed full of accomplishments. I’ve definitely been very lazy, and it’s been 100% worth it. I’m glad it didn’t cost me 20 years of effort, but who ever said it had to? I put in the hard work to establish a high savings rate. I took the time to really assess which luxuries would or would not help me work toward my bigger goals. And then I pulled the plug. And it was freaky at first, it really was. But I’m so glad I did it.