Writer on the Move: I Couldn't Do It

Traveling is hard work.

I was telling my friend, who writes a fashion blog, about how I had adopted the practice of writing on my iPhone. Having a newborn requires living life one-handed and there had been no time to spend alone with my laptop or notebook. However, I found that I could use Google Docs to write on my phone while feeding the baby. “I couldn’t do it,” my friend said. "I couldn't write on my phone."

My friend, a dedicated writer, was perfectly capable of writing on her phone, and had she been in the same situation as me, she would have either done as I had or found a solution that suited her. She would have figured out a way to keep writing.

“I couldn't do it” and its fraternal twin, “I wouldn't be able to do that” are phrases we use when what we really mean is, “I don't want it that badly.” In reality, if running were a top priority to me, I would wake up at 6:00 AM to do it or stay up after midnight or make some other time in the day. Following around Phish sounds like great fun, but I am not willing to sacrifice a home and the ability to pay bills in order to do so. However, I make constant sacrifices for my infant daughter, which do not feel like sacrifices. Because I love her and am happy to care for her, it does not bother me when she pees on me while I change her diaper, or that I have given up time with my friends for conversation with someone who can only coo in return. My life has significantly less freedom than I had a year ago, and I am happier for it.

When we choose what we can and cannot do, we are making choices of attention, effort, and allocation of resources. Once we have decided that something is essential to us, something we could not live without. then we will give up sleep and leisure in order to do it. When something is essential, we will make the time, money, and energy. It might not be easy, and could take a lot of sacrifice, but it will not only be within our realm of possibility, it will actually happen.

Recently, I accepted an offer to teach at a brand new STEM school in Washington state. When I tell people that I am moving to the other side of the country for a job, many tell me that I am brave and that they could not do it. What they mean is that the risk of leaving behind all that is familiar to them is not worth it. What they also mean is that perhaps I am not of sound mind.

Life gets comfortable. Even when we are not fulfilled, life can be pretty comfortable. The job I had was a nice office job. The pay was livable, my coworkers were easy to get along with, and the work was not boring. However, I missed teaching. I had been thinking about the amount of time I spent at work, much more time than I spent with my family or writing. I thought about how we get one shot at this life. And I thought about how I wanted to leave the world a better place than I found it.

I applied for the position because the job posting sounded promising and the more I learned about the school the more I wanted to be a part of this new start up. When I was offered the position of English teacher, my family and I discussed it and decided that the opportunity to work in a place that better used my talents and offered the opportunity to make a difference in others’ lives was too good to pass up, even though it was nearly 2,900 miles away. We decided that the chance to be happier and more fulfilled was worth the risk. It might sound idealistic, but what are we if we give up all of our ideals and dreams? And who or what are we really serving if we spend a full third of our day at a job we only go to for a paycheck?

There are some things in life that are worth making sacrifices. Family, Gd, art, things which are more noble than any individual by herself is. These are the things which make us say: Let's do this thing.