Over the last few weeks, I keep finding these old failed plans I made to start traveling. One from February 2021 about how I could work remotely. I had lists of questions: What would it take to have a completely remote business? How do I live in Airbnb’s? Another document from over five years ago: a map with highlights over the big cities I wanted to live in – San Francisco, New York, Seattle, and so many more. It felt a little like finding an old journal or a love letter, taking me instantly back to a time where that dream – and my own sacred change – seemed way too big for me.
I mostly remember the doubts of those days. That feeling that my dreams were too big for me. I imagine my younger self walking along a tight rope, holding their spine straight and arms rigid as they precariously balanced on this thin wire. They wanted so badly to “do it right” and avoid a massive fall. A fall into what? I don’t imagine they knew. All they could see was the darkness below. A darkness that whispered that everything you love about your life won’t exist if you live your dreams.
The darkness never speaks so clearly in the moment though. Instead, it fills us with ideas that inspire big, hard emotions. It panics at the concept of spending that extra money on the experience. The idea whispers at 3 am about how stupid you are for buying a van to live in when you never even went camping as a kid. Just me with the van? OK, fine.
You get my point. Our whispers are triggers that tell us we live in some domino style life. Like if we make this one choice, it all falls apart.
I’m writing this letter today to tell you that voice is not real or true and this van dream is living proof. As much as I look around and grieve losing all my stuff as I pack things into piles to donate or store, I grieve even more for the time I’ve spent believing in a detrimental self-support system. The time I spent listening to that tiny voice in my head that could talk me out of anything – even my dreams. At it’s darkest, it would try to talk me out of living my life at all.
While I know most of you think “well, I could never live in a van,” the point here isn’t about convincing you to live my dream. It’s about convincing you to live yours.
There will never be enough or a right time for you. There will also not be great consequences to you choosing to live. Do not believe that tiny part of you that thinks if you take one week off or spend that money that somehow it will all fall apart.
See, while we stare down change as enormous and challenging then try to avoid it, we forget that we are scared because of the energy that goes into change. We forget that in order for everything to change, we have to buy in. It won’t just happen to you – your dream, the downfalls. We don’t live in some mathematical system where every quantifiable input has an output.
Your mind is so powerful. You are a powerful creator – and the way it feels? That’s up to you.
So what if instead of treating our dreams like ticking time bombs, we made our dreams and the change that comes before them sacred like a special quiet routine or our favorite to-do? Sacred like church or our beliefs? Sunday morning records and coffee? Holding this change as if it deserves as much space as the doubts (because it does)?
Hell, I’d say it deserves even more space.
So today I want you to take a second to write down your dreams. To admire your life. To dive into the depths of the sacred change before we go into a new year where you’ll feel so tempted to try to create a new you. Don’t wait. Your sacred soul change isn’t waiting for the calendar to say 2022.
Then take on the change. Your life, the love in your life, and the dreams you have, will survive you changing. The fear of change comes from this voice deep inside of you who thinks that what you love can not survive your dreams. That isn’t true, so I suggest we get off the tight rope where we believe we will fail and lay in the grass to dream.
See you there?
PS – My letter this week is about a great realization. If you’ve heard anyone say “no one wants to work,” or maybe you said it yourself? Read this week’s blog post here.
Kat Kibben [they/them] is a keynote speaker, writing expert, and LGBTQIA+ advocate who teaches hiring teams how to write inclusive job postings that will get the right person to apply faster.
Before founding Three Ears Media, Katrina was a CMO, Technical Copywriter, and Managing Editor for leading companies like Monster, Care.com, and Randstad Worldwide. With 15+ years of recruitment marketing and training experience, Katrina knows how to turn talented recruiting teams into talented writers who write for people, not about work.
Today, Katrina is frequently featured as an HR and recruiting expert in publications like The New York Times, Chicago Tribune, and Forbes. They’ve been named to numerous lists, including LinkedIn’s Top Voices in Job Search & Careers. When not speaking, writing, or training, you’ll find Katrina traveling the country in their van or spending some much needed downtime with the dogs that inspired the name Three Ears Media.