As a software engineer I was living a comfortable life, some might even say 'the dream'. I worked for one of the top tech companies, earned an income that was quite lavish, benefits alongside it, and had an apartment and lifestyle to match that.
And yet little over a month ago I quit it all: the life and career I had been building for the past four and a half years here in Seattle. Making the decision was easy. Getting to the point where I could make the decision, however, was a long and arduous journey; it took between two to three years.
Why it took so long is a mixture of reasons. I kept waiting, hoping the feeling would subside and I would begin to enjoy my work. But my disgruntlement never abated. It fluctuated but never truly receded, only kept at bay by my wanderlust. In retrospect, I feel my waiting was also due to a fear of failure: a lack of self-assurance and confidence in my skills as a programmer and hence I felt I would not have the ability to successfully interview at other companies. In fact, I have been mortified of taking interviews, fearing the failure and rejection. Granted I think the method of interviewing where a person is put on the spot to solve a problem on a whiteboard is quite inane but I shall not rant about it here. Essentially these reasons along with the complacency granted by my paycheck arrested my ability to make a decision to change my situation, even though I had begun to hate my job.
In December 2016 I went to Arteles, an artist residency near Hämeenkyrö - a small town in the countryside of Finland - to focus on my writing. A month of living under a roof with other artists while having all the time to work on my story made me realize that I really enjoyed writing; till now I only dabbled in it as a pastime whenever I found time from work. I also came to the realization that my lifestyle back in Seattle was quite wasteful: I could save more by cooking regularly and being more cognizant of my spending, something which I never used to think about.
When I returned from the residency my life was in somewhat of disarray. I was still reeling from a recent breakup and trying to recover, and being back at work I felt even more out-of-place and discontent with my job. I knew I had to leave for it was taking its toll on my health and sanity, but also because I wanted to continue writing the story I had started working on in Finland.
Within the month I put my plan to quit in action, taking a few weeks to budget my expenses and determine if I could subsist on my savings for a specified amount of time. The two to three weeks I spent talking to friends, working out my expenses, and ascertaining my timeline gave me the assurance to tender my resignation.
And now here I am. Packing my life into boxes and storing them away till I figure out what to do. Currently I do not have a clue as to where I shall be moving to. I will be travelling for the next two months across the East Coast and a few locations in Europe before reaching home (Pakistan). Once there I shall continue working on my book and figure out my next move.
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Like driftwood carried along by waves on the vast tapestry of the ocean, we bob to and fro, sometimes finding ourselves in the past, and at other moments in the present