This is the constant question I ask myself. Should I stay here? Is this where I am supposed to be? Is it time to move on to bigger, better things? I feel like such a traitor and a turncoat for having these thoughts, but it seems to be in my nature to wander. It’s half the reason I’m so attracted to airplanes. To fly is to get away, to go somewhere else, to escape. It’s also to explore, to adventure someplace new and learn new things about the world, to make new friends and meet people different than yourself.
I have tried, largely without success, to affirm my loyalty to certain places by forcing myself to remain there beyond what was comfortable. It was easy when I worked at Barnes & Noble; two years passed without ever feeling like two years. But eventually, that grew old too. Everything has an expiration date.
Now that I have turned in my notice at the yoga studio, the job which I will have held for eleven months, I feel no sadness. Is that the marker? If I left my other two jobs now, the sadness would outweigh the newfound freedom. That is the only way I know how to stay. But even then, am I missing the call to something greater? When I had planned to move to the Bay area to pursue a job in tech two years ago, even if it meant living in my car for a few months, was I wrong for staying? I ask myself the same thing today, while I am still here, tied to a job and a relationship, whether what I would sacrifice is not worth what I could gain. This question may always plague me.
Enough for today. Time to study math and code. Now enjoy some airplane pictures.