When It's Time for an Adventure

Last December, my approximately two-year graduate program came to an end.

It’s been three months of being unemployed, disguised as a freelancer,

and the firm resolve I had keeps getting holes poked in it.

Looking back, I’ve never had a long break.

After graduating high school, I went to university, then studied abroad,

spent five years interning at two or three places for job preparation, and then ran straight for eight years as an office worker.

A month of sabbatical after five years of work, and a month for recovery after surgery.

Those two months were the longest I’d ever rested,

but they were ambiguous times to call “rest.”

And so, carrying both fear and excitement, I dashed headfirst onto a new path.

To avoid being confined to an office building,

to live a life I design,

perhaps I just ran, holding onto a vague, faint hope.

Even as I ran, I kept repeating a mantra:

“Let’s build a foundation where I can live fully as myself.”

“Don’t just jump into any place just because you’re cold, hungry, or scared.”

“Even if it takes time, even if I’m a little strapped for cash, let’s persevere.”

“Let’s persevere and live by establishing ‘myself’ as my brand.”

The intense two-year race has ended,

and what lies before me now is a boundless wilderness.

The power of the mantra I recited keeps weakening.

Useless worries, anxieties, and perhaps even greed shake me.

“Should I just go anywhere? No, I decided to try this.”

“But isn’t ‘anywhere’ what I need? Is it? Or isn’t it?”

I find myself laughable and pathetic, being swept aimlessly by thoughts crashing in like waves.

My husband’s words, which pulled my struggling self back to solid ground, gave me roots.

“I’ll handle the stable work, so you should go on an adventure.”

That’s right, I started running towards a new place to go on an adventure.

Adventure is an unknown world, accompanied by risks and hardships.

At the same time, you meet unexpected benefactors and reap both big and small rewards.

It’s now been three months since the adventure began.

In truth, I haven’t even departed yet, foolishly just worrying and circling the starting line.

Now that I’ve taken root, let’s sprout.

If I grow slowly, quietly, and steadily, the flowers will bloom.

And if I do well, maybe even fruit will appear?

Always with gratitude and love,