LIFE

It's Hard Work To Follow Your Passion

22/04/2017 4:40 AM AEST | Updated 22/04/2017 6:36 AM AEST
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"What on earth am I doing here?"

I am freezing. It is 23 degrees outside and sunny, but I am freezing.

I am sitting in a windowless room with the air conditioner turned on way too high. It has been two hours since I have seen natural sunlight. The third interviewer is walking into the room, asking about my aspirations for this career-advancing job position I have applied for. They are asking me the tough questions, trying to press me into stressful situations to discover my weaknesses.

But I know the drill. I know what to say to get the job.

The longer I sit in this investigation-like room with fake light and fake politeness, the more I have the urgency to escape from the room, to escape from the people and from this lifestyle.

Are these people really as passionate about their job as they want me to be? Or do they feel they have no option but to live this lifestyle?

I miss the question I was asked. I have trouble staying mentally in the room. After two hours with four interviewers I was released.

Do I want this job? No, wrong question. Do I really want to go back to this lifestyle?

I leave the building and stand outside, breathing in the warm air and soaking in the sunshine. How can I miss the outdoors in such a short amount of time? I doesn't feel right.

I am not worried about my interview performance. Not this time. There is another worry, a deeper question that required attention: Do I want this job? No, wrong question. Do I really want to go back to this lifestyle?

I just quit my last job because of exactly that reason -- the lifestyle. I even moved to the other side of the world to pursue my passion, to do the things I truly love.

I have a two-hour drive home from Malaga, Spain back to the little town of Motril that I chose to call home. Southern Spain is the perfect cycling location. It has everything I need: 300 days of sunshine, warmth, mountains, respectful drivers. I decided to move here to ride my bike, for no other reason.

I had this interview lined up because a friend of a friend referred me. And a job might be a good starting point into a new country. So I went to the interview. But instead of relief I felt burdened.

I am on this intersection again. The same intersection I was in Switzerland, the same intersection I was in Australia.

Do I want a lifestyle with financial stability, a lifestyle where I know where I will be tomorrow at 9 am, a lifestyle I don't have to justify, a lifestyle with a predictable future? Or do I want a lifestyle where I don't know if I will survive the year financially, a lifestyle I have to justify to others and, more importantly, to myself, a lifestyle that no one but me is responsible for?

I am sitting in the car. Mentally exhausted. Drained. I close my eyes.

Memories come up.

A little smile emerges. My pulse increases. My energy levels rise. My optimism and lust for life bounce back.

Memories of the days I cannot stop smiling while riding my bike through the mountains, memories of suffering through a brutal cycling challenge, memories of when I lose track of the time because I am in the zone writing about my passion. Memories in which I feel alive. Memories of the things important to me.

A little smile emerges. My pulse increases. My energy levels rise. My optimism and lust for life bounce back.

I start feeling good again.

I open my eyes.

I have to make a few phone calls.

I know which turn to take at that intersection.


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