I want to quit my job.
No, I don't want to quit my job because I hate my job, my boss, or because it gets too stressful or because I feel stranded between some nincompoops every day.
I love what I do, I love the people I work with (especially that extremely cute guy with the cute smile that I DARE not hit on because that would mean tresspassing on someone's property!), and I love even the need to turn into a quadruple Type A personality that comes along with my line of work. It pays well enough to have a decent life yet is less enough to want more, and gives the rush of adrenaline with the safety that a lot of other careers don't give.
But there are times...
When I just want to grab my basics and backpack across Machu Picchu or hike off to Chile. Or medidate in the wilderness of a Costa Rican rainforest. Maybe have a partner to get lost doing all this with, without the need for a distrust-filled legality called marriage.
Throw away my phone into the Atlantic so that I am never found again.
Buid a shack on top of a hill and grow a farm around it.
Not have to thread my eyebrows or wax my arms all the time. Be able to carry my "just out of bed" hairdo everywhere and on every day of the week.
To be able to get up early mornings to savor every sip of my warm ginger chai. To be able to go through the day without a cellphone and Facebook and Internet. To go to bed every night with a bubble bath and warm fragrant oils to caress my body.
To sit on the porch looking far into the tall trees below reaching for the blue skies above. Or lie down in a meadow, picturing animal, bird, and person shapes out of white clouds hurrying across to nowhereland.
To be able to watch the first golden rays of the sun glisten on bare skin after spending the night on the roof huddled under a cosy woollen blanket. Ponder over the meaning of life as the sun disappears into the red sky, off to brighten another world.
Hike across the Amazon to Cape Horn and risk life sailing in a yacht.
Or just let the mind and heart turn silent and wonder about the silence, patience, perseverance, and strength of the endless ocean.
Dive to the unmapped floor of the southern Indian ocean.
Kiss a beautiful stranger under an Aurora Borealis in Norway.
So, basically, turn into a freeloading hippie? No.
There comes a point in life when we all start questioning the meaning of our life as we know it, and how we are so deeply attached to the small, false little world we create for ourselves. How our identity is linked to our workplace position, how our sense of pride comes from a preferment, how our social status is dictated by our paycheck, the color of our skin and the clothes we wear, how we box ourselves within the walls of our nationality or creed...
...How it starts to bother us when, all we have to tell the world is nothing beyond all of these and associate these things with our name. There comes a day when the I, me, mine start to feel meaningless and you wonder how and when and why you stopped exploring yourself beyond those four walls and stopped connecting with the real you through the world that is still unseen with our human eyes.
The day we start to wonder will be the day when we end the pursuit of happiness and being the quest for contentment. And this quest does not have to begin by cutting off ties with the ruthless world but by being a part of it and yet not identifying ourselves with it. This, is what is called as Karma.
Until then, wake up on a frosty Monday morning and rush to work to mint all the greens. Maybe just to book that ticket to Norway...