AUTOTOMY

I don’t mean just traveling to the same haunts, the same beach resort year after year. I mean returning to live in a place you’ve lived before, once you’ve lived away, once your life has changed. After living for a year and a half in Asia, I returned to the US, to the same location where I had lived before.

The question I have for myself is how the clash of the inner self and the external environment makes for a better or worse experience. Everything is the same, but everything is different. I see the same groundhogs feeding in an open field where I walked before, and am now walking again. But the field is now bordered by construction. I take the same metro into the city, though when I ride it, I feel more isolated than I did before. I’m not a tourist, but I’m not a local either. I’m an alien in mind and heart.

Today marks my one-year anniversary here in the Philippines. It feels like a Saturday today. But then almost every day that I wake up here feels like a Saturday. I’ve had a year of Saturdays.

There was a guy from New York, named Brook Silva-Braga, who took a year off and went on and around the world trip. His documentary, A Map for Saturday, latches on to that feeling. Today is Saturday. So is tomorrow.

But it’s not just about traveling. It’s about finding peace of mind every day, a bit of soulfulness that reminds you that being human is a wonderful experience. If you don’t like where you are, then a world of places awaits you.

I have experimented with the “one shoe” principle — trying to live with only one pair of shoes for all seasons and occasions. Before I left on my trip, I spent a few months scouring the web and shoe stores for a perfect multi-sport sandal. I finally settled on a Keen. I hiked in it, walked in it, got in the water with it. And the last couple of months of work I even wore it everyday to see how many people would take notice of me wearing a sandal. I knew it, they knew. It was very cold that November and December and even with wool socks, my feet were freezing.

The concept hasn’t entirely worked here in the tropics. Unfortunately, I couldn’t get away with using flops or sandals for our wedding. I had to buy a pair of dress shoes. I now have a few pair of things that go on my feet, mostly flops and sandals. After all, I’m living in “flipflopdom,” where you can have a flop for all occasions. So I have a pair of flops for the CR (comfort room/bathroom), and a pair for walking on the beach, and a pair of sandals for longer distance walking. And the Keens for all around.

I still like the idea of a minimalist approach to footwear as that means shoes take up less space in the apartment and when traveling, the shoe goes on your foot, not in the pack. It’s less weight on the back and the soul.

On another blog, the poster asked what his readers preferred for retirement: to work a standard career and then have full retirement, or to work more years than usual but at a rate of 30 hours a week, what’s called semi-retirement. Most responded that they’d rather work fewer hours each week in order to enjoy more free time now. One remarked that the next year of your life is your best bet for a happy, healthy existence, rather than some distant year you don’t even know you’ll have.

After taking a career break, I think I prefer a different kind of concept, the mini-retirement. My option would be to work then take a break, work then take a break, with no specified time for the work or break periods, but the periods would be finite.

To do this, I’m choosing to live a non-standard, bare-bones kind of existence. Most everything I own fits in the back of my Honda Element. I have no debt, no house. I’m not beholden to any financial institution for anything.

I admit, this option is not for the masses, but for me it’s the perfect, and much happier solution.