Going Off Script

Or “There is no Right Path”

Click me.

The shelves behind me are mostly empty right now. Almost every book I own is currently in a crate, stacked four-high in the theater room just outside my office. In more crates, there are various items from my life and my work—crates full of photos and keepsakes, and crates full of production gear. I have one crate that’s nearly dedicated to spare keyboards. Another is absolutely dedicated to journaling supplies.

Slowly, bit by bit, day by day, my world is shrinking.

WATCH THE COMPANION VIDEO ON YOUTUBE (AND SUBSCRIBE!)

That seems to be the way I keep framing it to myself. But it’s a bit of an injustice to think of it that way. Because sure, the space I currently occupy is starting to collapse in on itself, in terms of the volume of things surrounding me. But as each item goes into a crate, or gets sold, or gets donated, or gets discarded… well, some other part of my life is expanding.

We’re downsizing for a variety of reasons. Some are financial—this lifestyle is expensive, and unnecessarily so. We could keep fighting to keep it, but it would be a Pyrrhic victory. And besides, there’s another reason besides the cost of it all. We’re downsizing because, frankly, this version of our lives is too big for us. And the version we want is currently too small.

If we downsize the house and the volume of stuff we have to keep track of and maintain, we upsize our experiences. We grow in a new way. Liberty and freedom become bigger aspects of our lives.

The thing is, all of that is sort of “justification after the fact.” The truth is that we didn’t plan for any of this. It was a turn in the road we didn’t see coming. One we’ve decided to lean into, but still unexpected.

Thinking about it, I realize that a lot of my life has been like that. In fact, in a lot of ways, the best of my life has been like that.

I didn’t see Kara coming, when she and I got married. We met, went for coffee, dropped in on an Easter Sunday sermon, and nine months later we were married. Had no idea that was going to happen.

Likewise, I didn’t know that I would shift from working in TV and radio and video production to full-time novel writing, but here we are.

Then there was van life. Maybe the most metaphorically dense version of all of this that I can think of. There were times, for example, when GPS failed us, we ended up on some weird back road in the middle of nowhere, and ended up experiencing some of our best memories from our time on the road. Random turns often lead to the most interesting places.

My life has been a series of random turns. Sometimes they lead me to things that I wish weren’t happening. Sometimes—more often—they lead me to the most wonderful moments of my life. They lead me to new places I never would have visited on purpose. They lead me to people I never would have found, if not by accident. Going off script nearly always ends up being the right move.

Because there is no “right path.”

That’s the thing it’s taken me a lifetime to realize. And it’s a tough one to swallow sometimes. Because I will often feel like a failure, when I look up and realize I’m not where I thought I should be. I will feel like I’ve dropped the ball when I look around and see that I’m somewhere I wasn’t planning to be, with people I hadn’t intended to connect with. I had plans, you see. And I’ve ended up improvising away from every one of them.

But here I am. In a time and place where I’m connected to the best people I’ve ever known. When I’ve accomplished things I didn’t even realize I wanted to accomplish. When I am seeing the unfolding of a world I didn’t even know existed.

And it’s good. It’s all so good.

Not everything. Not always. Sure. There are some valleys of darkness to trod through. But on the whole, in aggregate, this is a damn good world after all.

There was no right path, it turns out.

All roads led to here.

Click to visit Santa’s affiliate shop. Lesser known, but just as much fun.

CHRISTMAS IS COMING, AND I HAVE A SUGGESTION…

Two suggestions, actually.

First, you might consider introducing someone you love to some fun and exciting adventure. Check out my novels at https://kevintumlinson.com/books and pick up a stack of fun reads for the best people in your life!

Second, take a look at my little shop, CURATED, where I tell you the story behind the items I love and use in my daily life. Read the stories, think about the people you know and love, and pick up some gifts that come with a tale you can share. Go to https://kevintumlinson.com/curated.

A NOTE AT THE END

Just because I recognize that all these accidental side trails have added up to a pretty good life doesn’t mean I always appreciate them. Or the life. Sometimes it takes me a minute to pause and reflect, and eventually realize that this is all good. That the plan wasn’t that great to begin with. Who really needs a plan anyway?

Particularly if you’ve never been all that concerned with a particular outcome.

And I realize now, I never have. I’ve always been one to go with the flow, and see where I end up. And yes, I do have goals and dreams. Oddly though, I’ve accomplished a lot of them. And it somehow didn’t make me happier.

Not like discovering new things always does.

There’s a lesson there, though I may be too dense to express it. But let me try…

Having a plan for a specific outcome is good. But it’s short term. Goals are good for getting specific things done, but when they’re finished, the goal is spent. Useless. You need new goals now.

That’s a great way to build something like a business or a career. But it’s a terrible way to build a life.

I value improvisation. I consider it the greatest life skill. Having the ability and the competence to take whatever resources you have and achieve whatever you need to achieve—I value that way higher than goals, plans, and strategies.

Then again, I’ve spent a lot of my life stressed over money, so what do I know?

Well… this… I know this…

I would have been a lot less stressed over money, or what I didn’t have or did have, if I’d realized sooner that experience is the more valuable commodity. I only need money to maintain what I thought I needed. I need less money and fewer things to live a life of good experiences.

I guess you could quantify it like this: I can either have the big house on the great lot with the great view, but never be able to afford to travel and see more of the beautiful world; or I can sell all of it and go see what’s out there, go eat good food, go spend time with amazing people.

If you are blessed enough to have both, that’s amazing. But I bet most people, the majority of people, aren’t.

For most of us, it comes down to the realization that “your things own you.”

Maybe this is all a bit preachy. I don’t expect anyone to start selling everything they own so they can go live out of a yurt or something. But I’m starting to see that I enjoy my life a lot more when there’s less baggage to carry around, fewer crates in storage, and a lot fewer yards to mow.

Click me.