Living It Up in 2019 by Christina Knowles

fullsizeoutput_17a3Where do I start? It’s been a busy year, probably the most eventful year I’ve had in over ten years. Let’s see, I studied Spanish and math, math very extensively and not my best subject. I took the five-hour WEST-B test and got my Washington and Oregon state teaching licenses, even though I really didn’t want to teach anywhere.

Call it a mid-life crisis about ten years late. I was unhappy with teaching but felt trapped, trapped in my job, trapped in my house, trapped in a life that I knew wasn’t my best life. It was a good life, but as old age begins creeping upon us, we start analyzing our lives to see if the way we are living is good enough—good enough that “when it came time to die, I would not discover that I had not truly lived” as Thoreau put it in Walden (Thoreau, Ch. 2, Walden). Yes, I decided, it was time to “live deliberately” (Walden) because we aren’t guaranteed tomorrow, and I wanted something more.

I needed a change, a big change. It turns out my husband needed a change too, but for different reasons. He, too, was trapped in a job, but not because he didn’t enjoy the work. It was because he couldn’t be who he truly felt he was there, but he felt stuck, thinking he made too much money to quit and start over somewhere else in his fifties. Moving 1,500 miles away with me would be the catalyst he needed to make the change, so we agreed.

We sold our house and lots of our stuff, and we packed up our things, too many of our things, and put the dog and cat in the car and headed to the great Pacific Northwest. I took a teaching job in Oregon, not that I wanted to teach, but we weren’t so brave that we’d move that far without a job waiting. Call it Kismet or the Universe listening to my plea, or just plain luck, but when we got to Oregon, the job completely sucked! I mean, it was the worst job I ever had, and because it was so completely intolerable, it was my catalyst to finally leave teaching and pursue a different life, a life where I worked to live instead of living to work.

fullsizeoutput_17a6Through some connections with some wonderful people, I’ve been able to begin living the life I imagined. I now work at home. I have several different gigs—one for a company that’s very steady and has benefits, another that is regular and part-time but wonderfully creative, and the others are creative and sporadic. I’m a freelance writer and editor, I work at home with my dog and cat next to me, and I decide when and where I work. I never wake up to an alarm anymore. I wake up naturally with the sun. Sometimes I work in my pjs, sometimes I clock out for lunch and take a walk among the beautiful trees in Oregon, and go home refreshed to finish working. I take the same days off my husband does, so we can go to the beach, the mountains, or the falls, or just sit around together, watching movies.

Don’t get me wrong. It was hard, really hard. We left a beautiful house we had spent a lot of time making just how we wanted it. We left our close friends and family. We left security and better wages. We bought a house that needed everything, and we have to work on it way too much. We have to be careful with our money. We have to make friends (We have already met some great people we’ve been hanging out with). I’ve given up a lot, but I know it was the right thing to do.

I know because if it comes time for me to die ten years from now, five years, a year, I’ll know that I’ve been living, really living, the way I want to live. Even if my time comes next week, I know I spent my time doing what I want, being who I am, and my husband is able to live an authentic life, being himself. Nothing feels better than that. It really is a wonderful life, but sometimes you do need to leave to find the life you couldn’t allow yourself to live in that other place. Sometimes you have to just be bold to become bold.fullsizeoutput_17a5

Maybe someday I’ll move back, probably not, but if I do, I’ll be a different person. I’ll be a person who refuses to settle. I’ll be brave. I’ll be free. I won’t ever be trapped again, but the amazing thing is, I think I’ve learned how to be brave and free anywhere. For now, I’m loving the beautiful Pacific Northwest and the dramatic beauty of Oregon, where I learned to truly live “and as to you death, and you bitter hug of mortality, it is idle to try to alarm me” (Whitman, Section 49, Song of Myself) whilst I walk among the ancients as my true self. I can’t wait to see what this year brings. Happy New Year!—Christina Knowles

References:

Excerpt from Walden by Henry David Thoreau. Found in Writing America: Language and Composition in Context, edited by David A. Joliffe and Hephizibah Roskelly. Boston: Pearson, 2014. 132-133. Print.

Excerpt from Song of Myself by Walt Whitman, from Leaves of Grass. Philadelphia: David McKay, c. 1900. Bartleby.com, 1999.

Year End Reflections by Christina Knowles

Once again I sit here reflecting on the year that is coming quickly to a close. As all years do, 2015 brought its share of joys, heartaches, and problems, and with them life-lessons and growth. Looking back on this year, the things that stand out to me most are the tragedies and illnesses of those close to me, and though these stories are not mine to tell, I have learned from them. I’ve learned about the value of love, loyalty, and to prioritize time with loved ones above all else. With that in mind, I’ve had my own issues with which I have dealt.

The biggest personal event in my life this year was probably experiencing a stress heart attack last summer. It was minor, and I have been given a clean bill of health, but nevertheless, it was the catalyst for making several changes that I knew I needed to make for some time, but like most people, I had to come face-to-face with my own limitations before accepting them.

As a result of this event and of the tragedies and illnesses of those close to me this year, I have finally “lightened up.” I no longer work every night at home on schoolwork. I grade almost all my papers at school, I do most of my planning at school, and I simply eliminated anything that was not essential or directly related to my students’ success and learning. I work my butt off at work, and I still work my butt off at home, but it’s different work. It’s my work—creative work that I choose. I spend my time doing what I think is important because my time is not guaranteed to last.

So often, it seems, that we imagine we will have time to be happy later, time to relax and do what we want some day. Maybe we are waiting for retirement, but sometimes retirement never comes. Maybe we are waiting for a new job to make our lives more bearable, a new schedule to give us time to spend nurturing relationships, or to make more money to make our lives more enjoyable or less stressful, but what we don’t realize is that waiting will never end unless we just stop. Just stop waiting to be happy. Happiness can be found right now in every day.

So instead of detailing all the things that happened this past year, I’ll just say that some of it was good and some of it was not, but I learned from it all, and what I learned is that my life is in my control, and I don’t need a specific set of circumstances to start living it the way I want to.

All in all, I am happy with how this year turned out, happy with what I did with the time allotted, and that’s a good feeling. This year I learned to prioritize my life, find more balance than I ever had before, and do things that give me and those I love the most benefit from the time we have. Time won’t slow down, and I probably won’t either, but I can decide what is worthy of the minutes of my life. And the funny thing is that all of those things that I was waiting on to change, don’t even need to change anymore because I have changed. I love my job again. I love my home-life. I love where my career is going in both teaching and writing. I love my life again. I’m not waiting for anything to get better ever again. I’m making what I have better and enjoying every minute of it. Happy New Year!—Christina Knowles

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