Contentment: The Greenest Grass of the Them All

I’ll admit. I thought that quitting my job would lead to hours of newfound productivity. I will write for hours. Now I’ll double down on web design skills. I’ll climb more, and I’ll rest more. I’ll dust off my 15-year-old gear and start writing and recording music again. Once I don’t have a job I’ll truly find contentment.

The truth is, I’m largely the same guy I was in January, weeks before I walked away from my job.

Is that a bad thing?

I certainly don’t think so; I just thought things might be different.

I’m generally a likable person⏤or at least I believe I am⏤even if I suffer from the male version of RBF Syndrome. For those of you who are not hip to the jive of our times, RBF stands for Resting Bitch Face, which is unfairly directed at women with an unintentionally stern facial expression while at ease, even if expressing no particular emotion. I can’t tell you how many times a complete stranger has passed me on the street and said simply, “hey man, cheer up”.

WTF? I just got a promotion! I’m feeling great!

Most of all, I ­­­­­­­­resent the notion that I have to be grouped with Kanye West, for really anything.

The Motivation: Contentment

I’ve heard a lot of folks talk about the myriad ways the day will be filled if they don’t have to go to work. Or alternatively, my personal favorite, I’ve heard countless others tell me what I can do with all my free time. I suppose the implicit assumption is that I must be bored without the gift of corporate structure.

I’m here to tell you that who you are today is very likely who you will be tomorrow. Or next year. Or ten years from now.

There’s no job keeping us from being better husbands, fathers, brothers, or sons. There’s probably no job keeping us from being in reasonably decent shape.

There are just priorities.

The Anticipation of the Thing is Greater Than the Thing

Being on the road and far from my home doctor back in Colorado, I decided to get a flu shot from a local Safeway in Washington state a few weeks back. Aside from the blatant strangeness of receiving medical care in a grocery store, I sat with mild discomfort, waiting for the pharmacist to enter a small, quiet waiting room. While patiently waiting, I filled my time enjoying the prescription placards fit with smiling, middle-aged women, big smiles and great, alabaster teeth, all framed by late-afternoon sun.

I, like most 36-year-old adult males in developed societies, have experienced countless shots and many a needle prick. But the anticipation of the needle still brings slight fear and tension, despite the known outcome. Perhaps you are feeling it now. It’s as if she’s going to drive a bayonet, not a needle, into my arm.

She asked me which arm I preferred. My left, please. I need to preserve strength in my right shoulder for doing a one-arm pull-up later this afternoon, I thought.

“Either is fine,” I said, knowing the real truth.

In the end, this Leavenworth, Washington pharmacist was a pro. I hardly felt it.

You see, the anticipation of the thing is often greater than the thing itself.

I really look back fondly at my time in the months leading up to early February of 2020. In late 2019, I know we’re on track to our goals of financial independence. And in October of that same year, my company is unexpectedly purchased by a competitor, making my decision even easier to leave my job which will no longer exist by February.

There was something magical in those heady fall and winter months. There was a twinkle in my eye as I rode the bus, obscenely late to work without care. I loved how I kicked up my heel with glee as I pushed through the revolving skyscraper door and onto the cold, snow-blown streets of downtown Denver.

I arguably worked on this site more in those days than I do now.

Life is Long, So How Will We Fill It?

The reality is that I’m still only 36 years old. I’m approximately nine months removed from my last day of formal employment, which is already hard to imagine. As we all know, a lot has changed since February. A lot.

Barring catastrophe, I’m probably going to live a long life. We have to assume that at least, right? Can people be happy in retirement for 50-60 years? Although formal studies are lacking, anecdotal evidence points to an emotional up-hill battle for early retirees.

I’ve asked myself the question many times and I still haven’t quite landed on the answer:

Am I running from something, or to something?

The odd thing about being in our position is that we have almost no one with whom we can relate. I don’t know many folks who are off from work Monday-Friday, at least outside of Boulder, CO, where no one seems to have a day job (in a happy way). It gets old beating around the bush when someone asks me if I’m working remote while we are on the road.

The Keys to Contentment

As I’ve mentioned before in the post titled The Fallacy of Happiness and Meaningful Work, we’ve been conditioned to chase a mirage of happiness in a desert of false realities. We are led to believe that somewhere out there is a better life, a better body, a better job, or a better partner. The culprit is television, magazines, and now the hyper-overdrive of social media.

In reality, we all must deal with difficult and complicated emotions. We will all face our versions of tragedy and loss. As such, our goal should be contentment, not an unattainable and unsustainable status of unadulterated joy.  

(Related Post: Digital Minimalism: Give Me Back My Brain)

I’ve mulled this over a lot over the previous months and even years. Here’s a list of prime categories governing my ability to be content. I’d argue these apply to most anyone, and if one or more is out of sync, contentment will suffer.

Physical Activity:

Current Grade: A-. I’m climbing a bunch on the road, but I do miss a more structured training routine to balance the far less structured outdoor days. I’m getting in plenty of walking, mobility, and other exercise, so we’re largely good here.

Space/Nature

Current Grade: A+. I have nature in spades these days. Solid check mark here.

Relationships/Community

Current Grade: C+. In terms of my relationship with Mrs. CC, that is firmly in the solid camp. We’ve struggled at times along this three-month journey on the road, but there’s nothing out of the ordinary when living with someone 24/7 in a 90-square-foot camper while one of you is trying to work remote.

What I feel is lacking in my life these days is a greater sense of community. We’ve spent virtually no in-person time with friends or loved ones in months. Of late, this is largely due to the fact that we’re far from said friends and loved ones. I’ve sat around boulder fields and enjoyed some excellent conversations with locals and other traveling climbers, but those interactions are fleeting. Oh, and the retirees in RVs love me.

Financial Stability

Current Grade: A+. It should be obvious that financial strain is a major underminer of life contentment. We are thankfully in great shape.

Interestingly though, my wife might give this a different score. Sometimes, the weight of what could be lost overshadows the typical warm water bath of F-You Money.

Deep Work

Current Grade: B+. When I read Cal Newport’s Deep Work (that’s an affiliate link) in early 2019, I knew this was one of the most important books of my recent life.

It can’t be understated how important it is to have purpose. And climbing, for me at least, doesn’t come close to filling the purpose bucket. For now, this website is providing far more purpose than my day job ever did.

The only reason I’m knocking my score here is more an issue of focus. Life on the road limits productivity in a way being at home does not. No day out here is the same, which is a blessing for variety and a curse for productivity.

Being in limbo somewhere between vacation and not is certainly a privilege not lost on me, but perhaps I must also recognize that my best work might have to take second fiddle to experiencing our little piece of the world in an A-frame camper. It might be good for me to loosen the reins on a constant need to be productive.

That said, the best way I know how to improve this situation is by keeping a schedule. I’ve been slipping on it more out here than I might otherwise. But without a schedule for my day, I’m nothing.

Food

Current Grade: B+ Damnit, I love food. I arguably love food too much. We are cooking and eating surprisingly well, but there are limitations with our set-up. Cooking meat is a true pain in the ass. Plus, we lack an oven, so modern baking and roasting is off the table.

However, I do have a strong, primal affinity for cooking something in the earth. I really want to dig a hole, build a fire in it, throw some hunk of meat in there, bury it, and cook it for hours. While I wait for the meat to slowly roast in the bosom of Mother Earth, perhaps I will sew a loin cloth from the coat of a clubbed buffalo. Or maybe I’ll make a nice thatched roof.

(Related Post: How to Make Food at Home That Doesn’t Suck)

Contentment Summarized

From all I’ve written above, it’s clear to see that a traditional job is far from necessary to satisfy most, if not all, basic elements of contentment. However, more effort is required to fill the gaps.

For me, the lack of community is going to take some work. I’m not entirely sure how I can even begin to sort this one out until we resettle, unless of course I really start to get to know some other folks on the road. For many of us, simply going to work and interacting with our coworkers or classmates provides an automatic sense of community. I was never particularly close to my former coworkers, but they were a good group of folks and I enjoyed their company.

But first, maybe I just need some mirror time to work on my RBF syndrome. You know? Maybe there’s something to it. I mean, a guy introduced himself as Auggie the other day, and I immediately reframed him as a miniature dachshund in my mind. I’m sorry Auggie, but that’s a dog’s name, I thought, with sunken jowls and a look of mild annoyance while I laughed gleefully to myself on the inside.

While staring ahead, apparently with a look of subtle irritation, I wondered if he had a girlfriend named Lady. I didn’t ask, regrettably.

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