When I looked at my bank account this week I felt a pang of despair.
After successfully paying all my bills, my new car payment and stashing the amount Mint.com says I need to put away each month to meet my savings and travel fund goals, there wasn’t much leftover to have fun with.
It made me realize that the traveling and adventures I’ve had over the last year won’t be continuing on the same scale.
My story about putting all my financial resources into this blog and ending up with a broken down car was featured on The Financial Diet last week, one of my favorite websites for financial advice. While I was honored that my story gained traction, it was an embarrassing omission—but it was the truth.
I’ve done a lot of thinking over the last few weeks about what the hell I’m trying to do as a writer. And I know one thing:
I will never be a travel blogger.
Not because I tried and failed but because it doesn’t fall in line with the work I want to create in the long term. Being a travel blogger seemed like a viable option for someone like me with decent writing skills and a hunger to explore the world, but in some ways it feels like a shortcut that would veer me off the path of becoming a respected writer. At the end of the day I couldn’t figure out how to monetize my blog without subjecting readers to diluted content created by affiliate marketing, sponsorship campaigns and advertisers.
This new realization has me switching gears here at Parachute Journalist. My goal is to write first-person journalistic narratives from my own life experiences—and I want these stories to have a shelf live beyond the deluge of web content most of us passively scan through while multitasking with a hundred browser tabs open.
And if this doesn’t become the thing that supports me financially, I’m OK with that. Because for me, having a creative outlet to express myself is what keeps me sane and gives me purpose in this life.
In the midst of my new financial reality, I’m learning how to continue living an adventurous life closer to home. I’m spending more time on my bike—seeing local places in a new way and stumbling across the unexpected. These, I have learned are the moments I feel most alive and the core reason why I travel in the first place.
These unexpected moments include encountering an abundant orange grove during a bike ride in Edgewater, Florida, with no one else in sight. Or when I stumbled into the Cummer Art Museum in Jacksonville before a bike ride and found out the museum offers free admission on the first Saturday of each month.
It was at the Cummer Museum’s gardens where I discovered a 200-year-old oak tree that made me feel small and in awe of the beauty of things that flourish when given the time, space and nurturing they need to grow.
Not one for Baroque art, I almost passed up the gallery’s permanent collection on my way out—but was drawn to a particular still life called “Vanitas,” by Jacques de Claeuw. This painting is over 300 years old but the lighting and details of a half covered globe, wilted flowers, hour glass and other objects are so realistic I wanted to reach out and grab them. The term “Vanitas” is Latin for emptiness and the objects all represent the brevity of life or the emptiness of frivolous concerns.
My favorite object, the half-covered globe, represents man’s inability to predict the future. This painting would later be looted by the Nazis from a Jewish art dealer who died while fleeing the Netherlands for his safety in 1940. The museum later purchased it from a New York art gallery in 1962 before the painting’s history was uncovered.
The idea that a painting could have such a poignant impact more than 300 years after it was made, struck me and moved me to tears. Three centuries later, in a high-tech world so very different from the one that Claeuw lived in, this painting is still relevant and spoke to me in a profound way.
I couldn’t help but think, what will we create that will move museum goers to tears 300 years from now?
I don’t think I’ve ever had such a strong reaction to a painting, but it stuck with me. I spent the rest of the afternoon biking 30 miles on Jacksonville’s Baldwin Rail Trail, and thinking about all the things I want to create and promising myself that no matter how burdensome life gets, I’ll always make space in my life to discover new things.