Laid off and touching grass

Embracing the simple joys of life while paving a new path forward.

It’s been a while since I typed away on a keyboard. I was laid off in April, so I haven’t been too keen on digital antics.

Instead, I’ve been busy touching, fondling, and rubbing up on grass. Reconnecting with the real world. Talking to people, reading books, going for meditative hikes, and traveling wherever the wind blows me.

In fact, I recently returned from an incredible trip to the Galapagos Islands, where I swam with and gawked at every animal I had the chance to. With so much beauty around me, I felt guilty for blinking—especially when I remembered how long it took me to get there.

My week in the Galapagos Islands was truly a breath of fresh air, a break from my digital routine.

I reconnected with the simpler things in life, the things we typically overlook as we continually strive for more at the expense of what actually matters: our connection with nature and with other people.

I practiced synchronized swimming with sea lions, roasted in the sun with marine iguanas, blew bubbles with dozens of tortugas, and watched birds of all colors (and all-colored feet) fly above or waddle below me.

Trekking up volcanoes, traversing calcified corals, and having fine sand lump in between my toes as I marveled at the beauty of untouched beaches made me feel one with the world around me for the first time in a long time.

The interactions with locals also oozed with love.

One day on Isabela Island, as I walked toward the beach to watch the sunrise, I came across a crowd of children on their way to school. Each child passed by me, greeting me with radiant, ear-to-ear smiles and a heartwarming “hola!”

I felt like a proud mother duck leading a trail of cheerful ducklings.

Even when I peeked into people’s gardens—which could’ve easily been seen as intrusive (because it was)—I wasn’t met with disapproval.

My curious glances were returned with friendly handwaves and “buenos dias.” I was effectively a stranger welcomed into someone’s private world with no hesitation.

Witnessing Galapaguenans' deep appreciation for their community and pride in their islands’ ecosystem sparked an awakening inside me that made me feel as though I’d been sleepwalking for the past couple of years.

It’s after this trip that I’ve come to realize I’ve been living in a haze.

I’d been so consumed by the digital world, hunkered down navigating the pixelated highs and lows of remote 9-5s, that the real world whizzed past me in horizontal blurs and I was left unaware of the wonders around me.

Initially, however, at the start of my career in 2020, this trade-off felt worthwhile.

As the world shut down during the pandemic, businesses needed tech solutions to help them navigate a remote-first work environment. Writing marketing content for these software tools made me feel like my work mattered, as if I were helping the world get back on its feet.

But now that things are pretty much back to normal, the tech sector isn’t as palpitating as it once was. Couple this with the surge of AI, and my writing career left me feeling uninspired and useless.

In the months leading up to my layoff, I was effectively paid to churn out regurgitated fluff, blabber that I’d later have to plaster my name onto and claim as my own.

This not only chipped away at my integrity as a writer, but my interest in a writing career as a whole.

So when I got laid off, I was mostly relieved. For the first time, I had the space and clarity of mind to consider a different path.

It’s been nearly three months of joblessness now, and while I’ve been filled to the brim with uncertainty, I’m overwhelmed with a sense of joy.

Heck, I’m gonna say it: I love being unemployed. I absolutely revel in it.

I wake up beaming, arms cartoonishly stretched upwards while imaginary birds chirp away to what seems to be the start of a Disney soundtrack.

Flowers bloom.

The sky, strikingly blue and streaked with rays of sunshine, beckons me into a new day.

A sickeningly sweet smell of unemployment permeates the fresh air around me. I inhale freedom, and exhale fumes of anxiety.

Ah, I feel alive.

Nothing irritates me. No corporate pings, pangs, or dings. No “jokes” or “work emergencies” I have to react to or pretend I care about.

I’m getting my much-needed breather, a rebirth.

I have self-identified as a writer for so long—both in my career and in my personal life—that I wasn’t sure I could fully detach from it. It’s been my comfort zone for as long as I can remember. But now that the self-imposed shackles have been forcibly removed, I’m free to choose a different career path.

My time spent outdoors and attuned with the world made me heavily consider doing something more tangible, something I can touch (commodities? jewelry? I don’t know, oil mining?), but that leap feels so far-fetched it’s daunting.

My massive ego doesn’t help either: I can’t remember the last time I had to be a beginner at something, taking the hits and humiliations of learning a craft on the chin.

Thankfully, I have the luxury of time on my side and don’t need to figure things out right away. So for now, as I take the summer to relax and consider other avenues, I have one goal in mind: exploration.

I’m trying new things, meeting new people, approaching situations with a curious mind, and placing a premium on novelty. Because how can I leap into a new me if I’m still seeing the world through the lens of someone I’m trying to leave behind?