Courage to Emigrate

The restlessness is overwhelming. It's akin to the itch of an ivy of the poison type.

After 28 years of life in the law firm setting, working without limits, earning self-worth, I began a solo practice last week, a precipitous decision born of frustration and the depletion of tolerance. The response from friends and colleagues was so very encouraging. Success and reputation were built; a life secure relative to so many others less fortunate.

Why is it so easy for me to be dismissive of it all these days; to discard it to undertake my dream of emigration, of travel with only pennies, my camera, my journal; wading into the unknown to savor every moment?

The courage to embark on the unorthodox is elusive.

Ambiguity

I work earnestly day to day and have every reason to remain confident but somehow it seems elusive. Just today, while meeting with a dear colleague, we discussed my decision to practice solo and she suddenly blurted out, " You know you could write your own ticket!!"

Maybe I could. Yet I wanna be an expatriate.

At the Junction

• Where to from here?
• Into the fifth decade of living responsibly.
• Initiative to continue is waning.
• Motivation for change is ever-present but is snuffed by the slavedom of on-going demands and expectations--personal; professional.
• Becoming an expatriate with a backpack, durable footwear and a walking stick seems like the remedy.