Standing on the Edge

7.2.2018

Hey Derek,

I've been feeling more contemplative about my occupation lately. It feels weird and it's hard to describe. It's not a negative or positive feeling but more feeling very visceral about the state of transition I am feeling. I gave a presentation at my company’s developer's conference. I had never given a talk in front of a large crowd before (it really wasn't too large... maybe around 50–60 people). I was very pleased with how I did. I liked the content I was delivering. Mine was not really technical and I didn't get a chance to delve too deep into specifics as much as I wanted. There was a part of me that could hear this small voice inside my head that was putting myself down because my topic was not really technical and in some ways I didn't feel like I was legit for making the material a broad theme. But I loved what I talked about!

I don't know that I want to do that again but I am glad to have done it. It was a bucket list item for me. I am open to new possibilities even if a part of me still tries desperately to hold onto old useless stories I have constructed from the past.

And when I attended other "technical sessions" It wasn't as exciting to me. This makes me uncomfortable. I don't know what I want to do. All I think about is wanting to take a leave of absence for like a year and just travel the world and experience other people, cultures and food. I want to walk.

I have also tried to do no sugar, wheat, for the last several years. It's really tough, I get on and off. It's always the same thing. My little self (the ego) afraid of change.

I was thinking the other morning about toddlers and mothers. You know when babies start to crawl, they make attempts to explore outside of the parent, to gain more independence. They say the good enough mother is patient and allows the babies to explore as they are comfortable. Being available by sight while the babies scoot more and more away from the mother. Just enough to be out of reach for the mother but not far enough that she is out of the baby's line of sight. For safety.

I was talking with a friend about her need for freedom from relationship and yet she wants the comfort, safety of one. If only she can find that person who can allow her the freedom she craves and yet still be available, in her line of sight so to speak.

I was thinking that she should cultivate this safety within herself.

Maybe that is the advice I am really giving myself.

Hope all is well.
Yong

Now, years later, I see how much that letter revealed. The longing to walk. To be free. To live with curiosity and simplicity. Today, I am actively planning the very leap I once only dared to name. I’ve built spreadsheets and itineraries, mapped out routes through Southeast Asia and Korea, researched visas and health insurance. I’ve made financial plans. I’ve read about slow travel, monasteries, and hidden trails. I’ve imagined mornings in quiet kitchens, learning how to cook what grows in each region’s soil.

And still—beneath all that preparation—a familiar voice whispers: Will you really do it?

But I think the answer is yes. Not because I am no longer afraid—but because I know I am. And I hope I jump anyway.