There wasn’t one moment of clarity, more like a series of small leaks in the dam that all too soon could not be kept at bay. Another routine day of paperwork, teaching a class of adults who were forced into attending a course and who were promised a quick fix through it, a conversation with girlfriends over yet another busted relationship, the realisation that there wasn’t one person whose life I truly envied or could see myself wanting to live. (I don’t mean that to sound nasty I just mean that it wasn’t for me.) The slow nagging of the thought of a better way, no wait, not even a better way, just something that was different and lifted me out of the mundane.
I felt it was time before I knew it was time, just like when your body rises naturally from sleep on a good day, I felt it. I couldn’t describe it to anybody else but I felt that the time was right for change. Once I knew it was time for a change it still took a while to work out what the small steps were to make it happen.
It turns out the small steps were all mine and all internal. I knew what I didn’t want which was a start. I could see myself 5 or 25 years down the line and knew if I carried on in this direction it would more than likely make me miserable. I could have stayed in the job I was in, with little or no problems. It wasn’t mentally taxing; the people I worked with were on the most part a lovely genuine bunch and I could have sailed along to retirement without it taking a wrinkle out of me. Except for the nagging feeling inside, the little well of frustration and anger that I was wasting my potential and that if I didn’t shift myself I would never reach it.
I may not reach it making this move to Mexico and it could be a complete disaster but at least it’s a step….somewhere. A step in any direction is a step worth taking. At least that’s how I feel right now.