Wanderlust: sometimes the grass _is_ greener on the other side.
Growing up, I moved just about every year. Occasionally we stayed in one place for longer, say two or three years, but we also had shorter stints to make up for those more lengthy “visits.” All tallied, I moved twenty-one times before I left home for college at the age of 17.
I don’t bring this up to gripe about my nomadic childhood, but only to help contextualize my current wanderlust. I learned some valuable lessons as a result of the constant change. Some enjoyable and some painful, of course. I realized that change is good, but change for the sake of change is bad. And that the grass isn’t always greener on the other side and yet, sometimes it is.
Sure, there were tears for “lost friendships” and there was certainly sweat when the moving trucks arrived. Life was sometimes “on the edge” and often I felt out of control and along for the ride.
I’ll admit, though, I certainly don’t think I would be who I am had I had a “normal” stable childhood, living on 100 Easy Street, Anytown, USA my whole life. I’ve learned how to adjust to new and different environments, how to build friendships that last regardless of proximity, and certainly about the geography of the United States.
Oftentimes growing up, I felt like I had an outsider’s perspective on many things, in particular my peers. I saw how so many people just did things because “that’s what you’re supposed to do.” I saw countless individuals living the lives they never fully decided on, breathing and functioning as a result of inertia as opposed to choice.
That’s when I decided that when the day came to spread my wings, I would rely on a combination of logic and gut feeling to evaluate new opportunities. I determined to never close the door or open the door to something without taking my blinders off and without being scared to hear a new idea or two. It would be easy for me to verbalize that because I moved all the time growing up that I wanted to settle in one place as an adult. And yet, as a result of the incessant moving, I realized that there simply isn’t a “one size fits all” solution to life and life’s opportunities and decisions.
I’d say that I presently have a fair share of wanderlust inside me, yet I think I’ve found a rational way of handling my inner drive for change. It has helped me examine, accept, and reject opportunities with a clear head and a clean conscious. I’ve learned that if you don’t knock, no one will answer. If you’re not building trust with individuals, it’s hard to close deals. And if you are YOUcentric, you can count on less in the form of support. I’ve learned to rein in change and to harness the power of new ideas. I believe wanderlust isn’t simply about geography, it’s a paradigm.
It’s also this wanderlust that has brought my wife and I, along with my employees, to the beautiful and strange Tinseltown (LA) for the sake of personal and business endeavors. We’ve spent the last several years building Epsilon Concepts around Southern California. The golden state is a golden land of opportunity in our industry and we determined that this change (relocating 2700 miles in a bizarre cross-country employee caravan) was a change that made sense. With a logical approach and a patient manner, we delved into the journey and we’re relieved to find that the grass isn’t always greener on the other side, but so far it’s been pretty green (albeit sprinkler enhanced). Sure, there will be ups and downs and I’m sure I may curse LA every now and then one of these days (Utopia isn’t located anywhere on Earth, last time I checked!), but I’m truly thankful to be in this town and that my wife, company and I tapped into our collective wanderlust to help make this dream a reality.
