WHY I KEEP MOVING

WHY I KEEP MOVING

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After over four months in Thailand, WNW Member #5670 Steven Skoczen has moved on to Mexico, the next stop on his country-hopping adventure. His last piece was about making the life that fits you, and redefining how to see success. Now Steven brings us deeper into his world of constantly being on the road, and how moving impacts you emotionally, physically, and creatively. 

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When people hear I’m constantly on the road, switching cities every month, changing cultures, learning new languages, constantly trying to comprehend how even basic things like crossing the street or getting on the bus are done, they often say the same thing: “That must be exhausting.”

The truth is, it’s not. In fact, personally - and especially creatively, keep moving has been the best decision I’ve ever made. It recharges me in fundamental, powerful ways.

As creatives, none of our work lives in a vacuum. If you’re a writer, think of how reading another writer’s work echoes out in yours the weeks after. As a photographer or designer, how your visual style is impacted by the work you see on a regular basis.

Now imagine that every single piece of stimulus in your life is changed, all of it entirely new. Imagine that you’re suddenly living in a world where people have found entirely new solutions to problems you thought were solved. A world where the standards for what’s appropriate in public are radically different, where the balance of what you share and what you hide are shifted.

And imagine that none of that is explained to you - you have to figure it out, day after day, mistake after mistake. That’s the world I get to live in. The effects are profound.

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It’s so much easier to take creative risks, and make creative mistakes.

Would I have ever published an open-hearted piece about depression or the deep philosophical insights you can get from traveller’s diarrhea when I was living in the states? No way. It might impact my klout score or my brand or any of the bullshit I’ve made up in my head as a rationalization for not putting genuine work out there.

But when you’re out in the world, failing at communicating, buying groceries, and even basic navigation, failure just becomes a normal part of what you do. It ceases to be scary, and you don’t need try-harder mottos to help you put things out there. You just live with your work how you live with your life. You know some of it will be an abject failure, and you learn how to recover and still get to where you want to go.

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You get access to entirely new ways of seeing the world.

All of our work is rooted in the world in which we live. So when how-the-world-works shifts, the effect on our work is tectonic. Imagine the sort of work you’d create in a world where you never said sorry, or one where you never said best. How would things shift if instead of meat or bread, vegetables were the foundations of food? How would your work change in a world where child sex trafficking was something you had to look in the eye, understanding first-hand what it says about all of us.

There are huge overlays on the cultures we live in that are only visible when we’re able to step out of them into something genuinely different. The effect of Christianity in the United States is powerful and forms the bedrock of every natural-born American’s world view, even if they’re not Christian. Spend a few months in a country that, for all of its recorded history, has been Buddhist, and those differences become obvious and palpable. They open up a new way of seeing, of expressing, and of course, of creating.

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You have a built-in deadline.

One of the most lovely bonuses is that once you’ve settled in and started making, you immediately feel the clock start ticking. I’m in Mexico now, but I won’t be forever. How much can I soak in here? How fully can I express the things I find?

There’s a real power to a deadline, even a gentle one, that prompts you to keep creating, keep making today and every day - because soon, this muse will be gone.

It’s like one of those short-term flings. It’s wonderful, and you want to squeeze every second in before it’s gone. Which reminds me - it’s time to close this laptop and head off. There’s more to Chiapas to experience, and more to write.

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Steven Skoczen is currently living in San Cristóbal de las Casas, Mexico, and writes over at Ink and Feet. He writes a hand-crafted letter every week that a lot of people really love.

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MAKING THE LIFE THAT FITS YOU

MAKING THE LIFE THAT FITS YOU

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This is the second installment of Living the Dream, a series by WNW Member #5670 Steven Skoczen on his experiences this year traveling - and working - all over the world. This week, we learn about the 'Steven Manual' and how the lack of structure can make us even more productive.

Read the first installment to learn how Steven sold everything he owned, left his life in Portland, and set out on the ultimate adventure. 

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One of the most striking things about my life here in Thailand is what it doesn’t have. No solicitors. No junk mail. No regular mail. No advertising (I can’t understand the stuff I do hear.) No social obligations. No set time I really have to be anywhere. No expectations of who I am, or what I do. No habits.

And in this space, I’m thriving like I’ve never thrived.

I write every day. I eat salad for breakfast. I work until I’ve accomplished a significant chunk of work, then I stop. I make projects and art. I exercise every day. I meditate. I give myself a break when I need one.

The result has been that I’m more productive at work than I was in Portland, on fewer hours. As a result, I now have the time and energy to pursue the creative projects that recharge me and keep me lit up. And time to explore a new country and learn a language.

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In Portland, I wrote The Steven Manual - software that tracks every bit of my life, and keeps an eye on if I’ve exercised lately, if I’m getting out of the house and seeing friends, all of those kind of things. I love the manual. It’s been a daily habit for more than two years, and it has single-handedly steered me out of depression, gotten me into nature when I really needed it, and generally been psychic, robotic best friend.

But here, even after a few conscious attempts, I just don’t use it. Here, it’s like I have a hand on all the knobs - seeing people, number of work hours, time with friends, number of new experiences - and when something feels out of balance, I’m just giving myself permission to just do whatever it is that needs done.

In a beautiful and powerful way, it’s working. I haven’t been as centered, fulfilled, as genuinely good as I feel here in a long time - and without propping myself up on love or someone else - maybe ever.

There’s an unacknowledged weight, an inescapable mold that presses on our regular lives. The space of our days defined by house, car, bills, life, friends. These mark every one of our minutes, cordoning off the truly free space in which we can move.

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But sell everything, move to a new country, culture, and time zone, and suddenly everything is opened up. The facts remain unchanged: I’m awake for sixteen hours every day. But only here, with everything stripped away, do they actually feel that plentiful.

Every one of us is different. Each of us has our own equilibriums and knobs, and our balances are sure to change with the seasons and the weather and all the passing tempests of our lives.

But there’s something to unhooking. Something powerful in that quiet, persistent voice: let’s not go to that show. Let’s not clean out the car. A pause. A space made. Waiting in it:

Let’s do what makes us come alive.

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LIVING THE DREAM: A NEW SERIES

LIVING THE DREAM: A NEW SERIES

Warning: this article may cause extreme envy. Meet WNW Member #5670 Steven Skoczen, a creative technologist who is living The Dream. Last fall, Steven sold everything, packed a laptop, an unreasonable number of books of poetry and some clothes into a suitcase, and bought a one-way ticket to Asia. His plan for the next few years is to live in a different country every few months. Steven begins his journey in Thailand, moving next to Mexico, Nicaragua, Panama, Costa Rica, Columbia, Japan, New Zealand, France, and then the unknown.  (Though Steven warns us that it may not actually play out like that.)

Steven declares that just a few months in, the impact on his creative life has already been tremendous, “The influx of new ideas, ways of thinking, and just overall stimulus have been radically helpful in my process and my productivity.”

Over the next four months, he'll be sharing regular updates from the road on travel, culture, and the advantages and challenges of creative work while on the move.

A bit about Steven:  

He’s a writer and entrepreneur who has worked on hundreds of projects. By day, he works as the CTO for an early-stage startup. By night, he writes essays about what it means to be human and makes the occasional person-centric software product. “Here, on the other side of the world, I can’t understand why those can’t all be the same person. I’m a writer. I’m a top-notch programmer. I lead and grow teams of developers. I’m a maker, an artist. I am a man who loves curry, who struggles with depression when it stops by, who will stay up all night talking with you about art or the world or the meshing of technology and humanity."

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In the Fall of 2014, I sold everything I owned, bought a one-way ticket to Thailand, and got on the plane.

Before that, I worked a pretty normal job in Portland, OR. You’ve heard stories like this before, and the narratives all go pretty similarly: one day, I said, screw it, and I just jumped. Those people are inspiring as hell, but if you’re a normal person like me, not relatable. They’re superheroes. They jumped.

Except I’m not a superhero. I didn’t jump. Maybe it’s that I’m chicken. Maybe it’s that I haven’t actually done anything all that bold. But most likely, it’s that I’ve figured out a little secret on how to get yourself from the life you have to the one you want. The bold one. The unfettered what-if one.

That secret?

Take actions that make you a little bit scared.

Eleanor Roosevelt famously said “Do one thing every day that scares you.” It’s great advice. But it’s also terrifying, and non-specific. What one thing? How scary? Should there be snakes? I hate snakes!

Mark Manson beautifully argues that the key is to realize that your emotions aren’t real, that you will survive them, and that your actions are what really shape your life. It too, is brilliant advice. But if you’re driven by your heart, like me, that argument, beautiful as it is, never makes it past your heart into action.

But here I am, living in Thailand, picking the language up on the fly, and loving it. Somehow, I’ve done it. How did I do it?

These three simple steps.

 

ONE: PICK YOUR MOUNTAIN.

Take some time, reflect, and pick your mountain. That far off dream life. The career change. The bucket list. The thing you’ve always wanted to do. Whatever that big “if” is. (If you don’t have a big “if”, seriously consider the possibility that you’re already living your dream life, and just enjoy it.)

Once you have it, write it on a piece of paper. Take up the whole page.

Stick it on your wall.

 

TWO: ASK HOW, NOT IF.

Now that you have your mountain, switch the question from if I could do ____ to how can I get to ____. Move your brain from dream-mode to problem-solving mode. What are the actual things you’d need to do to get from here to there? This will dull some of the romance. That’s ok. When you get there, the romance (and a whole lot more) will be there, waiting.

If this doesn’t come easily, it pick an arbitrary date in the future that you’ll be on your mountain. Then, think of that as a true thing that happened, and backtrack. How did you get there? What sorts of things did you need to do?

However, don’t worry about a plan or making a list. All you need to do is switch your frame of thinking. When you think about your mountain from here on, you’re not asking if. You’re asking how.

 

THREE: TAKE ACTIONS THAT MAKE YOU A LITTLE BIT SCARED.

On a regular schedule, once a week, once a day - whatever you will actually do, commit a block of time to take one action with the following characteristics:

1. It scares you a little
2. It is small and absolutely achievable
3. It tangibly moves you toward your goal

Importantly, your action should be completely self-contained. It doesn’t commit you to anything in the future, and it is completely separate from your big mountain. It’s its own thing.

Tomorrow, you can totally decide that the whole mountain is a terrible idea and walk away. But today, you commit to doing that one totally achievable, slightly scary thing.

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HERE'S AN EXAMPLE:

I wanted to learn Parkour, but was way too scared to actually go do it. I was in my 30’s, not coordinated, and hopelessly unhip. Have you seen those videos? Those kids are buff and crazy and can fly!

But despite my terror and unhipness, I was honestly interested. So I tried the little-bit-scared technique. The first day, my action was to get online and look up if anywhere nearby offered lessons. I didn’t have to go to any classes or talk to anybody or anything. I just had to see if classes existed. I could do that. I did.

The next day, my action was to schedule a class. I wasn’t committing to go to the class, just schedule it. I could do scheduling. I did.

When class day rolled around, my action was to show up to the start of that one class. I could leave five minutes in and never come back, no problem. I wasn’t committing to anything more than showing up for the start. I could do that. I did.

Four months later, Parkour training was a 2 or 3 times a week part of my life, I loved it, I’d made friends there, and I could scale an eight foot wall and jump-roll off a six-footer. And on the way there, though I’d been a little bit scared, I’d never really been terrified.

Seem like magic or too simple to actually work? It’s not. It’s actually science.

 

HOW IT WORKS:

Tackling a challenge this way does something really neat: it uses your brain’s habit-forming mechanisms for your benefit. When you’re taking a small risk, your brain kicks in all those fight-or-flight chemicals. When you succeed, you get the rush of all the dopaminey feel good chemicals. What you’re doing, day after day, is training your brain that taking small risks is pleasurable. And once you’ve got a good groove going, your brain will start prompting you on its own. It’ll have a craving. It’ll say, “heeey, isn’t it about time we took another little risk on that dream life?”

The little bit scared is the absolute key, and it’s an emotion you can rely on to guide you toward your goal. If you feel a little bit scared, you can trust you’re actually moving in the direction of that big scary/awesome thing. But you never have to look it right in the eye. It never gets a chance to eat you. You just get up, take your little risk, succeed, and walk away.

Day after day, your little risks and little actions will add up. And before you’ve even realized what’s happened, you’ll find yourself standing on top of your mountain. You won’t have ever been terrified, and you won’t have ever jumped. It’s uncanny.

 

THAT'S THE SECRET.

That's how I got on the plane to Thailand. By the time I walked down the ramp, I’d been taking little-bit-scared actions for months, eating away at Move to another country. When flight day came, my day’s little-bit-scared action was to walk onto the plane. And it did feel a little bit scary - but also like every day before it. I could totally handle it.

That’s how you get the life you want without being a superhero. Those three steps. The little-bit-scared. Give it a shot.

The only thing you risk is feeling a little bit scared. You can totally handle that.

p.s. Since I wrote this, I've actually built a product, based on the principles in this essay. It's called the Change Monsters. If you dug this essay you might want to check it out :)

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