We Don't Need Others to Fully Understand Our Self-Conceived Paradise
Why I'm OK confusing people with my sailboat dreams
I have a therapist who regularly takes jogs through my extreme decisions and my resulting worries. I’m so grateful for her stamina.
We talk through my recent choice to liquidate my material possessions, leave my good career, and move onto a sailboat with my husband and cat.
Then she tells me, “you’re not crazy.”
“In fact, I’m jealous.”
But this doesn’t always reduce my feelings of unease.
It’s still petrifying to conquer something this big — no matter how cool it may sound to others. The reality is: no one else can fully relate.
If you’re moving to Austin, trading in your gas guzzler for an EV, or visiting Paris for a week-long trip — it’s rather easy to find folks who understand roughly what you’re facing.
They can share your excitement and any trepidations.
But moving onto a small sailboat without refrigeration, no steady income, and having no plans to return?
[Crickets]
These days, my friends & family acknowledge what I’m doing with one or two words — like, “Cool!” or “That’s exciting!” Then, we move on to more relatable topics, like the crumbling world order.
Occasionally, someone will pepper me with fun questions, like, “Will you jump into the Atlantic Ocean halfway between North America and Europe?”
(Hell yea I will!)
These discussions are exciting but not deep. For the intense stuff, my friends, family, and even my therapist aren’t usually sources of much consolation.
So, this means I’m reliant on books and YouTube to discover other crazy sailors who did something similar.
My husband and I are dependent on each other for pep talks.
But, in the end, I must point at myself in the mirror and fully understand, “You got this.”
I need to be my own role model.
I found courage at least once in my life
Last week, I talked with my therapist about my ongoing trepidations.
She asked me, “Have you ever done something scary and challenging where you didn't know the outcome ahead of time?”
I answered, “Yea, I suppose so.”
Then I told her about how, when I was 19, I decided to move to Australia alone.
She said, “Excuse me, what?”
I said, “Oh yea! It was the hardest thing I ever did. But then it was the best thing I ever did!”
This is when the lightbulb flipped on in my head regarding my sailboat dreams.
In that moment, I could say to myself without any doubts:
“You’re more courageous than you realize, Cory!”
“You got this, Cory!”
I then took my therapist on my journey through 2006-2007, sleeping in hostels, traveling to every corner of Oceania, and working odd jobs to survive.
For some reason, I didn’t think it was relevant to bring this up before.
I then told her what it was like to tell people in my life back then that I was moving to Australia alone.
Back then, I got responses similar to what I’m hearing/feeling with my sailboat dreams today.
Friends said, “I want to go, too!” (But no one pulled the trigger)
Acquaintances said, “Keep in touch!” (But I knew I probably wouldn’t)
My coworkers might’ve muttered to themselves, “He’ll learn soon how tough it is out there!”
My parents didn't keep their disapproval to themselves. They pelted me with a bunch of reasons why you can’t just move to Australia.
“You don’t know anyone there!”
“What’re you going to do for work!?”
But, like with my sailboat dreams, I didn’t have the answers to all these questions back then, either.
Why would I know how to do something I’ve never done before?
I needed to figure it out!
This is the same for moving onto a sailboat and going on a global odyssey — except now I have an amazing husband (and cat).
We get to figure it out together.
By definition, you can’t explore the unknown by knowing everything ahead of time. You will sometimes need to take the leap anyway and figure it out as you go along.
Trudging through an ocean of uncertainty
Based on my decision to quit my career and sail around the world, some people will tell me, “You’re fearless!”
You now know, dear reader, it’s not totally true.
My therapist regularly tells me: “You’re so courageous.”
But I usually don’t feel that way.
I feel bored.
I needed to do something different.
Thinking back on my experience going to Australia — and a bunch of experiences in my life, honestly — I know the confusion and indecision are totally normal. This is what’s required sometimes to take a radical path, at least until we arrive at our self-conceived paradise.
Here are some steps to achieving YOUR self-conceived paradise:
You realize you’re bored and you need to do something different. Come up with a hunch for what you want instead. You do a bunch of research (blogs, books, and YouTube). Then, you make a big decision.
Trudge through the ocean of uncertainty. This is necessary. It’s normal at this point to think, “this sucks” or “I’m totally alone.” You’ll feel like no one gets you. But you keep going.
You arrive at your self-conceived paradise. No matter how long it takes (it may take months or years), or how much fear you felt (it may be a ton), you look back and think, “That’s all it took!?!” You’ll soon realize it was all worth it.
It only matters what YOU think (about your own life)
Having a therapist tell you you’re not crazy is nice.
Having friends and family to talk to, even when they can’t fully relate, is invaluable.
And it’s so fun to see people light up with excitement and ask questions when you tell them about your “crazy” plans.
But ultimately that’s not going to be enough.
Sometimes you won’t have the right words for yourself, either. But you still need to keep going because it’s your goal.
Your self-conceived paradise awaits.
After I moved to Australia at 19, I felt extreme loneliness and doubt for the first 30 days. I wanted to give up. But then, it was awesome. I found a tribe of fellow radicals, we understood each other, and we travelled together as a little posse for a time.
Then, going to Australia alone was the coolest thing I ever did — until now.
If the normal path doesn’t make you fulfilled, it might be necessary to take the leap regardless of whether other people fully understand you.
It’s totally normal to occasionally second-guess your grasp on reality, especially when people around you are seemingly happy doing things with their lives that would make your skin crawl.
But in the end, the only important question is — what do you think?
You’ll eventually find the people who understand.
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We nailed the same theme in different ways this week. Amazing to see that synchronicity. I found that when I chose to only surround myself with those who could share and expand my dream that my world shifted dramatically for the better.
I can relate Cory! So far my best decisions where the ones that some would call risky and maybe even stupid.
- I also left to Australia and then Southeast Asia in my early twenties and worked random jobs when money got low (could have continued a promising journalism career in Italy)
- Afterwards I moved to England with only €300 to my name, completely heartbroken, but still knowing I'd find a job and make it work (I did)
- In 2020 I closed my yoga studio, sold most my stuff, and flew to Mexico to meet a guy I shortly met on vacations and fell in love with over the internet (I married him)
- When my husband and I moved into our truck camper (no fridge, no toilet, tiny space), he left his well paying job while I wasn't allowed to work yet (waiting for my green card). (Yes, had cold feet just before 'moving in' but made our best memories ever)
Of course it was hard at times but I am so glad I never listened to other peoples fears.
Long story short, soon you'll be surrounded by people that will think what you did makes 100% sense. I 100% know you'll be loving it. What is life without any adventures anyways? I think that's scarier than losing all your money and having to start from scratch.