The digital nomad journey is lonely, and hindsight is 20/20. I constantly find myself thinking about things that I am doing right now or reading about new ideas and think, "Why didn't I do this earlier?" Why didn't I rent out my apartment to AirBnb when I was away for summers during college? Why didn't I quit my stressful job earlier? Why didn't I try online teaching earlier?
In senior year of college, my roommates told me that my freshman self had called and asked my parents for permission for my roommate to ask her gay guy friend over. I was like...what? I did that? Was I that much of a good girl? I wasn't a homophobe -- was I? I had absolutely no memory of that event. But then again, I do remember joining the Catholic club briefly for my first semester at Berkeley and singing along to Catholic songs. I must have been a different person then. I'm probably a different person now. Things that would have seemed crazy to my just-out-of-high school self are my daily life now. Hell, I've traveled to more than ten countries across Europe and Asia, some of them solo, and now I virtually teach kids in China from home while wearing pajamas. This from a teen who was so shy and awkward she sometimes took a full day to come up with a response to the small amount of people who did actually talk to her.
Even back then I wanted adventure though. I just didn't know how to get it. Some overprotected Catholic girls go to college and run wild. Me, I finally embraced the wild notion that I would write. I also embraced a member of the opposite sex for the first time. That was nice.
I keep wondering when this crazy journey crashes and falls, and I have to go home and be "responsible" again. Neil Gaiman has the same fear, so in a way, I already have something in common with a famous writer. Which will also lead me to becoming a famous writer.
Gaiman has a speech on Youtube where he talks about goals being like a mountain. Imagine the mountain as your goal, and whatever decision takes you closer to the mountain at the moment, you take it. I feel like I'm climbing that mountain, and when I look back I start to see parts that could have been climbed easier and with less effort. On one hand, it makes me smack my forehead. On the other hand, does that mean I'm growing? I hope so. I'm a 26-year-old American with the hopes and dreams of a young, idealistic boy. Also with the financial savings of such a boy. Gotta keep climbing.