When we lived in the Appalachian mountains we’d sometimes drive out to Floyd, a small town on the Blue Ridge Parkway. It was indescribably beautiful. On Friday nights a group of local farmers, mechanics and hippies would pull into town in their beat up pickups, plop down on the porch of the general store, grab their banjos and harmonicas, roll a smoke, and for hours play the most amazing bluegrass you’ve ever heard. It was electric.
As I sit here on another Friday night a decade later, waiting on the tarmac for my plane to empty after an exhausting, demanding week, I find my mind wandering back to those guys with a mix of envy and admiration. I can’t complain – for the most part I have a meaningful career, love living in California, love our life. Things are far better than I deserve. But life is also relentlessly fast-paced and stressful, and for what? So in this quiet moment, I can’t help but think of those guys, and how they’ve found something I never will as long as I’m on the hamster wheel.
I just wish I had the guts to step off.
Anyone with me on this one?
What would stepping off look like for you?
For me, I’d keep a lot of what I’m doing – I love counseling, writing, etc. But I’d figure out a way to find more peace and connection in my life.