theratracejournal.com

This will be my first post in quite some time. It feels a little strange revisiting this site 7 months after my last post. Before I get too far ahead, I want to apologize to anyone that took the time to write a comment on my blog. Unfortunately, my former web host had a major server crash last year and some information was lost. I had a backup that was 2 months old and had to restore from that since my host did not have a complete backup for some reason. Long story short – I now have a much more reliable host and I have manually submitted the articles I lost to within the approximate date they where written.

Lesson learned: BACKUP.

Now, apart from all that, I won’t make excuses - I have been a little lazy as far as keeping this blog going. I suppose the server crash was an excuse.

On a brighter note, much has happened since my last real post, and I hope to start writing about it on a daily basis.

It’s been a while since I’ve posted, so I thought I would give an update of what’s been happening in the last month or so.

The renovations on the house are complete. It’s been on the market now for about 2 weeks. I’ve had quite a few people looking at it, and even a few offers so far. One guy came in with a low-ball offer that made me laugh. I guess it takes all kinds. I hope that it sells before the real winter sets in.

I’ve lost about 20 pounds on my self-imposed diet. It really feels great to move around 20 pounds lighter. I still have a way to go, but I’m very encouraged by the results thus far. I started power walking last week. It takes a lot out of me, but I have noticed the difference in weight loss. I doubt that I will ever take up running, as the power walking is almost too much to handle as it is.

I have sold most of my toys. It’s funny how I don’t really miss any of that junk. My only regret is that I may have sold a few items below market value. Oh well, at least I won’t have to take any of it with me.

I’m still very committed to my original plan. I can see things falling into place. As mentioned, I hope to have the house sold soon. Once that is taken care of I will be looking for a very inexpensive place in the city – preferably within walking distance of my work.

Once I’m settled there, it’s one year of frugality and saving. I think I can still make my financial target and “retire” right on schedule.

If you stopped working, had no savings, were unable to pay your bills, and did nothing about it, you would quickly wind up at the bottom of the social heap – homeless.

Homelessness strikes fear in the hearts of most individuals who have ever thought of making a change in their lives by handing in their resignation. It is perceived as the ultimate destiny for those who have mismanaged their affairs to the extent that they have used up all their chances and all their safety nets. It is a formidable force that wields its power in the form of fear.

I encounter homeless people everyday. Most people avoid them like the plague – I’m not sure why. I’ve overheard comments like,” It makes you glad to have a job” and “There, but for the grace of god, go I.” It’s obvious that it makes many people uncomfortable - not because they detest homeless people, but because it strikes a cord with many of us.

Fear like this will keep you on the straight and narrow. It is very real, since there is proof of how lives can be shattered, in the alleyways and park benches of most major cities for all to see, any day of the week. This fear keeps many of us chained to our desks with little options, for we have concluded that there is some unseen force trying to constantly drag us down. How good of the company to give me this great job and spare me the pain of this certain fate.

Well, the reality is that many of us would not end up on the street. There are many other factors involved here. I have talked to many street people over the years, and I could not imagine anyone I know winding up on the street. They simply don’t fit the profile.

First of all, many street people have problems with alcohol and drug abuse. I have seen this first hand. Additionally, many have emotional and psychological problems. I’m not saying that all street people can be painted with the same brush, as I am sure there are exceptions, however, there does seem to be a certain profile with most.

Additionally, many street people either don’t know about, or don’t want help from, the many social programs available to them. I’m not being biased or prejudiced here; I’m only speaking from my own experiences.

I honestly don’t think I would end up homeless. I have family and friends that I can count on in an absolute emergency. Even without that, I still believe that I could avoid sleeping on the street. I would make use of every program available to me. I would wash dishes and sweep floors in order to keep a room and have a little food.

I really feel for the homeless. Through no fault of their own, they have slipped through the cracks. Forced to exist on our leftovers, they exist as a silent minority in a world that is simply too busy to acknowledge their existence.

I don’t think I’m tough enough to survive that.

Many months ago I had one dominating thought - by the way, this was prior to my bid to change my life. The question that kept nagging me, day in and day out was: What do I really want out of life?

It’s such a simply worded question, yet so meaningful in many ways. “What do I want out of life?” For once, I carefully considered this. It’s funny how, up until now, a question like that was so superficial. Years ago my answer would have been something like, more money, a high status career, and in general, a higher standard of living.

Well, I don’t know if it’s a sign of maturity, but nowadays, things like freedom and leisure time seem much more attractive. As an example, years ago, I would volunteer for as much overtime as possible. It seemed that making more money was the key to success and therefore happiness. These days, time is infinitely more important. I only work overtime when requested by the boss (and even then, I turn it down whenever possible).

Yes, I certainly value my free time these days. Besides, the government tax on overtime is horrendous.

Ok, so back to the question. Well, I would have to say that what I really want is the ability to choose. I would like more choices. I would like more freedom. Currently, I have no choices. I have worked my way into such a tight corner that I feel I can’t move.

My expenses pretty much equal my pay. I don’t have any money left over at the end of the month. If I had no debt, there would be a chance to save a little, but that’s not the case.

Being in this predicament means that I need every last cent, just to survive. I can’t have any interruption in pay without feeling the effects financially. I am literally two months from living on the street. I hate this situation; it’s very stressful.

The solution? Reduce my expenses - simple, yet effective. Cutting back my expenses will give me breathing room. It will eventually give me more choices and lower my stress level. I don’t believe it’s healthy to be operating at 110% all the time.

Going to work knowing that I’m banking a good portion of my money will be refreshing. Working, knowing that I don’t owe a cent, will seem much less stressful. It’s really a mind-set.

Yes, what I want is to have choices. To work at something I enjoy because I want to, not because I have to. To have choices when it comes to my work and leisure time. To be my own person and make decisions for myself and not the corporation. To reap the benefits of my own talents and hard work. To come and go as I please, when I please.

I’ve spent the last 20 years as a virtual slave to the system. I won’t allow myself to spend the next 20 in the same situation.

How do I plan on implementing this? I’m not sure yet - possibly a small business, a job that I actually enjoy, or maybe just a combination of living off my investments and a part-time job. Once I slash my expenses, the possibilities are endless. Oh, and so are the choices.

Selling our home is pretty much a given at this point. It doesn’t look like Donna and I will reconcile at any point in the near future. Frankly, the house now seems like a huge weight I am carrying around for no reason. As long as I am responsible for it, I will be a slave to the system.

Firstly, it’s too big for one person, and secondly, Donna will eventually want her half of the equity. I don’t have the cash on hand to buy her out, so the only logical thing to do is sell the house.

I won’t miss it, personally, since it holds no sentimental value whatsoever. In fact, it represents everything that I believe is wrong in my life at the moment.

However, the main reason for selling the house is to free up some cash so that I may pay off my debts and start a significant savings and investment account. I am hoping that by securing some investments, I will be in the position to leave my job soon.

My short-term plan is to sell the house and move back to the city. I want to try to get a place near the downtown core so that I won’t need to keep a vehicle. I’d like to either walk or take a subway to work. The money saved here will go into the “Phil Freedom Fund.”

Sorry I digress – back to selling the house. I had the real estate agent over and we worked out a few things. Several things need to be done before the house officially hits the market. Much of this is cosmetic, such as painting and repairing a few minor holes and such. I’ll be replacing the carpet in a few rooms and updating some of the plumbing fixtures.

Outside, I’ll be leveling the interlocking brick in the front walk and repairing the rear deck. There are no major repairs needed. I have replaced the roof and re-paved the driveway in the past few years.

I won’t do all this work myself. I can handle the painting and the plumbing fixtures. The rest will be done professionally. I estimate $5,000.00 to complete the work.

I’m estimating that the house will be up for sale within thirty days. I can’t wait until it’s sold.

I’m feeling a little low right now. Donna has gone back to stay with her mother for a while.

I tried my best to make her see what I was trying to do, and that I wanted her to be a part of that. What I succeeded in doing was to come off as some sort of raving lunatic.

I could have explained it better perhaps, but I don’t think that would have worked. She had her mind made up as to the type of lifestyle she wanted, and my “vision” was a world away. She loves our current lifestyle. I’m not judging here; after all, it was my lifestyle for years. She simply does not want to give that up. There was no way to explain it to her. She wasn’t willing to listen. In fact, she chalked it up to a mid-life crisis. Her last words were “call me when you grow up.”

I realize that many would think me a fool to part company for such a silly reason. I never said this would be easy, nor did I expect it to be. It’s going to take a tremendous amount of courage and resolve to see this through.

As hard as it is, I would never impose my ideals on someone, just as I would expect that others would not impose their will on me.

No, I’m not heartless and un-feeling. There where many other factors involved which led to Donna leaving. Many are personal.

I’m happy.

For once in my life, I feel like things are finally falling into place. I feel as though I now have choices.

Now, nothing has changed on the outside. I’m still doing what I’ve been doing for the past 20 years. However, there is one important difference. I now have hope.

The simple act of making the decision to change my life has been very powerful. I’ve lost that persistent feeling of hopelessness that has been following me around for decades.

I’ve, more or less, completed the outline for what I plan to do in the upcoming months. It’s certainly not chiseled in stone, as I’m sure things will change on a day-to-day basis, once I start implementing things.

Everything is good. It all feels great, except for one thing- I feel that once I tell the world of my plans, I will face a lot of criticism and negativity. Much of this will come from my family and friends. I’m not looking forward to this. However, I realize that in order to start living life on my own terms, I’ll have to ignore much of it.

Like so many others, I have been conditioned by society to regard this type of lifestyle (the one I am proposing) as risky, immature, and irresponsible. Society keeps us in check by frowning upon this sort of thing. Our self-worth is very much tied to what it is we do for a living.

I worry about what others will think of me. I worry about losing my “social status”, as it has taken many years to build. I fear being perceived as lazy and unproductive. Of all the hurdles I will be facing in the coming months, this will certainly be the greatest.

After all, this is going against the norms. It is certainly not how mature, responsible adults are meant to behave.

While many of us may dream of packing in the career, there are, in fact, very few who carry through with it. 95% of us simply accept it as a part of living in a civilized world. “Your livelihood is certainly something you should never gamble with”.

To prove this point, let me tell you about a conversation I had with my brother last week.

I mentioned -in theory, mind you- my plans for the future. The reaction I got was predictable. He seemed visibly upset. He immediately started lecturing me (as though talking to a small child) about how important my job was; how lucky I was to have it, as hundreds would be lining up for it if I resigned. He reminded me of how the rest of the family would react and how shameful it would be to be unemployed. He said it was too risky and that I would have to start all over eventually, with less money and vacation time.

He questioned me on my plans for the future, and when I could not tell him exactly, he told me that he thought it was the most irresponsible thing he had ever heard. Lastly, he told me that he was reacting exactly how any other family member would. He was right about that.

I never thought this would be easy, and I was fully prepared for that type of reaction. However, I’m determined to follow this through, and to not be influenced by others. It’s going to take a great deal of strength and resolve to overcome the opinions of others. Are they genuinely worried, or perhaps a little jealous?

There is no way that I can make this happen without losing some of the “prestige “ and “status” that I’ve built up over the years. Frankly, I don’t care. It’s highly over-rated anyway. I’m determined to do what’s best for me.

The final days of our vacation were poisoned with the notion of having to return to work on Monday. All the enjoyment and new-found freedom was gone. I had a nagging feeling of doom and hopelessness that literally sucked the enjoyment out of the final few days. I started waking up in the middle of the night, thinking of returning to that hell-hole. My appetite was gone, and work was once more dominating my thoughts. I was miserable.

Sunday was spent at home, quiet and uneventful. Donna seemed to be ok. She left to visit her sister for a few hours, and I was left to mull over a few decisions.

I was jolted out of bed at 5am the next morning by the very familiar and sickening sound of my alarm clock; the load bleating bursts, rattling my very being. I hadn’t slept all night. I felt more depressed than I had ever been in my life. I just couldn’t do this anymore. Something had to give. I was now on the rat-race schedule and there would be no time for contemplation, original thought or daydreaming. I was on company time now.

As I was putting on a nice white shirt, I couldn’t help but notice the contrast between my, now tanned, skin and the stark whiteness of the shirt. It represented the conservative, business like, nature of the corporate world, and my skin represented the freedom, restfulness and carefree ways of a summer like no other. I wanted to shred the shirt.

Looking down at my feet, I couldn’t help but notice how great a “sandal” tan I had this year. The tan lines on my feet were a depressing reminder of carefree days at the beach, reading a good novel, or snoozing under the umbrella. Well, no time for that now, I had a schedule to keep (slipping on my socks and covering the tan-lines until next year).

I spent the day overwhelmed with work that had not been done. I worked through my lunch to try and get caught up. Everyone welcomed me back. I was quiet, as usual, for the rest of the afternoon. Throughout the day, I could feel myself being re-programmed slowly.

For the past 15 years of my 20-year career, I have returned to work, after enjoying a great holiday, with an overwhelming urge to just give my notice. I have fantasized about how great this would feel, and how free my life would be, as a result. I have never followed through for many reasons. After all, it’s one thing to think about quitting your job, but another, all together, to actually follow through with it. I suppose we all crave security, and that’s probably the number one reason for not going through with it; well, that, and the backlash that would result with family members. Such a decision would be regarded as immature and foolhardy. Besides, I would lose my dignity and social standing (yeah, right).

Fortunately, this only lasts for a day or so, and then it’s business as usual. I’ve often wondered about this phenomenon. It’s strange how you can’t easily stop worrying about work when you start your holidays, and even more strange how it takes a few days to get back into the rat-race. Is it because we need to be re-programmed? My guess is, yes.

This time it was different. Yes, I still had the same feelings of being trapped and such, but this year I truly felt that if I didn’t make a decision now, that I would remain enslaved until retirement. Besides, recent events in my life were serving as a wake-up call. I sat down and logically thought it over.

I made a list of things I needed to change. Quitting my job was at the top. I then went through all the reasons why it should happen now, instead of later. Nothing is really easy, and you won’t always satisfy everyone, but the decisions still need to be made, otherwise you’ll spin your wheels for years, stuck in the same rut, afraid to move. I decided that torturing myself for the next 20 years was too high a price to pay. Yes, there are a hundred reasons to stay (some of them good), but also several reasons to leave, and leave soon. I decided on the later.

Sept 6 was the day my life changed. On the outside, everything seemed normal, but inside, I was bursting with joy. The decision had been made, and I felt as though a thousand-pound weight had been lifted from my shoulders. I felt better than I have felt in 20 years. A bit scary, maybe, but the relief that the decision had been made was electrifying.

This week has gone great. I am happy and I guess people notice it. Life no longer feels hopeless. I can see a light at end of the tunnel (where it leads to is uncertain for now). I realize now just how trivial this job is, in the grand scheme of things, and how I have always desperately clung to it for *false* security.

Mentally, making the decision is most of the battle.

I’ve always had a tough time getting back into the swing of things after a summer vacation. This year was no exception. Maybe it was the gorgeous weather we had. It was a little on the warm side, but that’s the way I like it.

I spent three weeks simply relaxing and doing nothing and it was just great. We spent a lot of time at the beach and in the back yard. I even got in a few rounds of golf. We spent three days camping up north and the weather was absolutely stellar.

Most years we head out to Virginia Beach for the annual two-week vacation. However, this year we decided to see what it would be like to just stay at home and do “day trips.”

It didn’t take long to realize that we didn’t miss the 14-hour drive, the packing, the hotels and having to eat out all the time. We had everything we needed already. We should have planned this years ago. The best part was saving the thousands that we normally spend on the yearly get-a-way.

Vacations are funny things. Well, at least for me they are.

The first week was spent just winding down. In fact, in the first few days I found myself thinking about things at work. Did I take care of all the loose ends? Did I turn off my voice-mail? I think I forgot to tell my replacement about a critical deadline, etc… I just couldn’t wind down.

The second week was just great. I had totally forgotten about things I might have left unfinished at work. In fact, I couldn’t have cared less. I was enjoying myself. Sleeping in and waking up naturally, instead of being jolted into reality by the dreaded alarm clock. Having coffee on the back deck as we listened to the neighborhood come alive. The “worker drones” hitting the road for the long commute into the city.

In the second week, I felt as though I had all the time in the world. By this time I’d officially wound down. Work (and thinking of when I had to start back) was so far away, it didn’t even matter. I felt free, and it was the greatest feeling in the world.

This year we spent a lot of time on the beach. There is nothing better than the smell of the water, sun block and fresh air. Even when it rains, it still beats a day in the office any day.

The weather was so warm this summer that we were able to stay into the evening. We spent a few nights just watching the sun set on the water, and later we would go for a stroll along the boardwalk. Even at 10pm, there were many people still out enjoying the warm summer nights. I was so far removed from the stresses of the rat race, it was as if I were a different person, leading a completely different life.

I realized at that moment that the simple pleasures in life really are free. I didn’t need the big house, the expensive car, or any of the toys. In fact, I didn’t need the suburban lifestyle at all. It was simply an illusion of happiness and contentment. That lifestyle ensured that I would remain a slave to the system until my retirement. But, here I was, totally stripped of everything but my shirt, shorts and sandals, and I felt better than I had ever felt in my life. I could think more clearly and was genuinely happier than I had ever been in my life. I felt free. Free because at that moment I realized that I could be happy and content without anything the rat-race lifestyle could offer me.

The third week was much like the second. We spent a few days at the house, a few at the beach and the rest exploring a few small towns in the area. People seem to be a lot happier in small towns. Many swear that they would never have anything to do with the city life. They have obviously not been influenced by the hyper-consumption life style that afflicts so many of us city dwellers. I envied them.

The third week was good, but it wasn’t the same as the second. Nothing was different on the surface. We still had great weather and we were enjoying our daytime outings, but something was different. There was a nagging feeling… Very insignificant at first, but it seemed to gain momentum as the week drew to a close.

I mean, I knew what it was, but I tried to ignore it as much as possible. It would win eventually, however. It would grab me and snatch me, against my will, from the wonderful lifestyle we had adopted over the last few weeks. It would be like a hard slap in the face, waking me from my newly found contentment. The rat race was calling me. Welcoming me back and ensuring that I would soon know who was boss. It was determined to make me suffer for the last few weeks of enjoyment. It was letting me know that my brief encounter with freedom and true happiness was, but an illusion. It would make me realize that I was still owned and that I would be whipped back into shape very, very soon.

Yes, I was owned by the rat race. I was destined for crowded highways, office politics and the meaningless drudgery of the day-to-day life of a cubicle dweller. Any enjoyment, contentment and original thoughts would soon be a distant memory. I felt *distressed*?