It's 2018. I'll be 40 in July. I'm at my desk. I joined this startup six years ago—it feels like two years ago. I could stay here, at this desk, treading water forever. Unless ...
My wife and I started talking about a long trip to Japan: two months. There is a pilgrimage route in Shikoku we mused walking someday while hiking the Kumano Kodō in 2015. Sketching the trip out, two months turned into six. Six turned into ten. It seemed crazy. We told a few people about it. They thought we were crazy. Weeks went by quickly at my desk. As the imaginary date of our penciled in adventure approached, it seemed crazy not to go.
Am I the person who quits their job, rents their home out for a year, wanders northern Asia by train and boat, spends seven weeks in an intensive chinese language school, learns an ancient sword form in a Taoist kung fu school, and circles the perimeter of Shikoku collecting Buddhist temple seal stamps?
Yes. We left in February.