Dispatches from the middle

Day Eight: The middle road is generally the path I choose, for better or for worse. Not too hot, not too cold, not too fast, not too slow. I’m trying to decide if I like this approach or not; it’s served me quite well thus far, but there are alternatives worth considering. I do a lot of different things, and to varying degrees of intensity, but I’ve never put all my eggs into one basket, jumped in with both feet, and let the chips fall where they may because one project or dream or goal was so overwhelmingly important that everything else could happily fall by the wayside. I did move to Germany once with no idea how I was going to support myself, but I had numerous contingency plans if the scholarship didn’t work out (which it did, in the end). So that may or may not count. Generally speaking, I like balance and I like a good plan.

In contemplating the notion of designing a lifestyle instead of slipping, sliding, or falling into one – I love this concept! – and, moreover, conceptualizing and actualizing a career, or life’s work, I’ve come across a number of individuals who’ve performed complete life overhauls. Some people dedicate themselves to a single ambitious project or start their own business; some reorganize everything so as to make long term (even indefinite) travel possible. Some perform radical experiments. I read an article yesterday about a woman – Heidemarie Schwermer – in Germany who hasn’t used money in 15 years. She began by developing intricate networks of swapping and exchange. This eventually led to a year-long experiment in living without money. 15 years later, she still doesn’t touch the stuff. She donates her pension, gives away the revenue from her three published books, and refuses to purchase insurance (which, incidentally, is a hugely daring thing in Germany, a land where everyone and everything tends to be insured to the gills for all possible, and numerous impossible, eventualities).

I really admire these people, and envy them more than a little. As much as I’m a traveler on the middle road in practice, I’ve always had a soft spot for non-conformity and a smoldering dislike for playing by the rules. But still, when I read about these monumental adventures, as much as they intrigue and excite me, I always find myself worrying the practical worries and looking for compromises. How does one save for retirement while living as a nomad, or even as an independent business owner? How could I incorporate some of Ms. Schwermer’s exchange strategies into my life without quitting my job or giving up my savings? I get frustrated with myself for not being braver, more resolute, even more foolish; part of me scoffs and chides every time I find myself heading towards a compromise, which I invariably do.

But then I think about the motivation behind these unique and extreme life trajectories. These people are pursuing the lifestyle they enjoy; they’re creating situations and experiences that make them happy. And their happy is not necessarily my happy, or necessarily my happy right now. It might do me well to accept the fact that, right now, I’m a middle-roader and to build on this, to use it to my advantage, instead of trying to change it. I would choose to work another job until a new business was sustainable. I would definitely enjoy bouts of extended travel more knowing I wasn’t coming home to an empty bank account. And so on.

I do have my schemes. I do have a notion of what would be worth going all in for, what might just catapult me into my own weird and wonderful life experiment. But I’ve also got some things to attend to before I’m ready to step off the middle road. And, for now, that’s going to have to be o.k. How do you do it – especially those of you who live, or have lived, off the beaten path? How do you balance adventure and practicality? Or do you?