What keeps me going is the ability to quit
Man but it’s been a rough week. As I work through the afternoon on this gloriously beautiful Sunday in San Diego, I feel lonely and depressed by the isolation that is intrinsic to writing for a living. I’ve been sitting here in a very quiet apartment for hours, days, a week at a time, trying hard not to dwell on recent personal upheavals and the ever-present worries about whether I can pay the rent. Even if I get out like I have been making the effort to do lately — coffee with friends, a bottle of wine with a neighbor — I still face 12, 14, 20 hours a day in the thick, smothering silence of this quiet apartment where those self-defeating thoughts fester and spread.
My family in Colorado keeps encouraging me to get a job or to move back to the Denver area so I’m not so isolated. And there have been some hours this week when I’m very, very tempted to put together a resume and pass it around.
What keeps me going, keeps me dedicated to pursuing my dream of writing for a living on my own terms, is that at a moment’s notice I have the ability to throw in the towel. Today, tomorrow. Next week. Next year. I can quit. I’m not trapped by the road I’ve taken. I have options at any time.
When I was in Peace Corps in Mali, West Africa, I adopted the same philosophy. The first few months in my little village were very rough… I didn’t know the language very well; it was unbearably hot every night and every day; I stayed sick almost all the time. My parents recognized that I was close to the end of my rope, and they purchased a ticket for me to return to the States for Christmas.
I had been away since February — almost a year — and the first thing I recognized was that nothing at all had changed. I had grown as a person, developed new language and coping skills, seen things no one I knew had seen before. But the US was exactly the same. I recognized right then that if I quit that Christmas or the next Christmas or if I served the full 27 months, I could slip back into my cultural mainstream with no problem, no ripple, no explanation needed.
So, despite the fact that owning my own business and making my own living and sitting alone in this apartment is really, really tough at times, I know this is making me stronger, smarter and ultimately more fulfilled. And I know that I can change things and slip back into a mainstream life the moment I decide I’m really, really done.
I’m just not done yet.





