Tonight, I found myself researching tiny houses to install on plots of land in rural Texas.
Is this what a mid-life crisis looks like? Shouldn't there be a sporty car? A new wardrobe? Or at least a yoga retreat?
Lately, I've been thinking a lot about what's next and where I will find meaning. Since I don't have a family of my own, I typically look to my career for meaning, but big law has nearly run its course. It's time for a change. A change that could be an adjustment as minor as a new lawyer job, as considerable as a new career, or as major as a new career in a new city. Fortunately, I have options. A truly embarrassing array of options. With no children, no spouse, and no student loans, my only constraint is a mortgage, which could be disposed of in short order through the sale of my house.
I can do anything. ANYTHING.
For this, I am grateful, but--let's face it--people with too many options often spend so much time considering them that the opportunities pass them by. Like that guy that never settles down because the BBD (bigger, better deal, for the uninitiated) might be lurking behind his next swipe on the dating apps in his smartphone. Yup, like that.
None of the women in my family were so free of obligation, so flush with resources and so enriched with choice in their mid-thirties. There is no defined path. No template to follow. I am truly fortunate, but I also need to start narrowing my options so I can evaluate and choose.
When you're in a rut, what do you do to break free of the lethargy and move forward?
