My Resignation Letter from My 'Poor Life': Seeking Novelty and Agency
Instead of reverse-engineering my goals, I simply avoid what I hate the most.
Ten months ago, I hit "Send" to submit my resignation letter from my sunny home office. It was the first time in my 10+ years of working that I hadn't had another job lined up. I didn't know what my future would look like beyond working as a product manager. No one could tell me what to do or how I should spend my time.
It was exciting and nerve-wracking, like going to the gym for the first time. I was excited to see my abs pop up but terrified by the intense atmosphere of meeting gym bros. I wonder if I should have celebrated with a rave party or stayed home while looking at the ceiling, pondering what I would do next week.
As someone good at following directions from bosses, my decision to quit also made me uneasy. Could I survive working independently without a definite direction? Could I last without my monthly salary?
Quitting wasn't like switching off a light bulb on my house's terrace or turning my palm upside down. This decision took years of frustration and reflection about what I wanted. I kept putting the decision off, waiting for the right time and the stars to align.
I had just been too scared.
In the months leading up to the resignation, I took a week off from work to stay in Ubud, Bali. I isolated myself from Jakarta's congested traffic and took my yearly reflection seriously. Every morning, I let the warm morning sunlight touch my face gently by the pool in my small villa. I then ran for 5k surrounded by green rice fields, fueled by the release of endorphins in my brain. I sipped black coffee while gazing at the mountain, which was as high as my caffeine intake. I had a high-protein breakfast of chicken breast, which was not for me but to pump my muscles.
As Ramit Sethi, a personal finance expert, says in his book "I Will Teach You To Be Rich," I asked myself the ultimate question: "What is my rich life?" His rich life involves picking up his kids daily from school, buying a $1,000 cashmere sweater, or buying anything he wants from Whole Foods without worrying about the cost.
But, I added a twist by inverting it: "What is my poor life?"
Instead of reverse-engineering my goal and setting quarterly milestones to achieve it, why don't I just avoid the things that can worsen my life? It's more practical. My poor life involves being weak both physically and mentally, working on things I no longer care about, and lacking novelty.
The problem: That was the exact life I was living.
I was drained; My body and mind frayed at the edges.
Six months into the pandemic, I didn't go out at all. It took a toll on how I felt and viewed myself. I gained more than 8kg. With so much time consuming the internet in my tiny cave while feeling like Batman, who's doing a murder investigation, instead, I stumbled upon my past post about how I loved running back in 2017-2018. It was such a good life before a knee injury, and busy work took over my life. I had to do something about this. I decided to take on a hard challenge, run at least 30 minutes daily for the next 30 days, and post it on Twitter. I only ran 16/30 days, but it felt energized, and I lost 2kg! I wanted to continue on.
A few months later, at the end of the year, I took a short vacation to Bali to refresh my mind, which led me to live there for a year. I started going to the gym at least 3 times a week, avoiding processed food and consuming more protein, getting morning sunlight every morning, and taking my afternoon walk while seeing the sunset at the beach.
This habit compounded over the next three years into participating in my first half-marathon race (I'm currently training for my first marathon), fixing my sleep schedule and social media usage, doing daily meditation, discerning my relationship with alcohol, hiking mountains, and walking 10,000 steps a day. My YouTube feed has become an on-demand gym studio; I only listen to the Huberman podcast and eat chicken breast and broccoli. I've never been this healthy in my life.
I was no longer interested in following the default path.
As I got to know myself better, the mountain I thought I would climb differed from the one I wanted to keep climbing. I am no longer interested in succeeding in my poor life by climbing the corporate ladder. I knew I had to seek a new mountain.
Dr. Orion Taraban, a renowned Psychologist, explains well "Why Getting What You Want Is Sometimes Disappointing."
He says:
"Most people don't actually know themselves. Most things people think they want aren't authentic and grounded to their beings."
He thought his dream life was lying on the beach with women from the Corona Beer Commercial. Instead, he enjoys working towards things worth pursuing by overcoming struggles and pain, like climbing Mt. Everest in a winter storm, where he lost the feeling of his toes and fingers. It was a novel experience. He felt so alive.
My new mountain involves setting my standard of living, working for myself, and having autonomy over my time and who I can meet. I want to engage with projects I want to work on with people of my choosing. I renounced myself from my past identity.
This new mountain resonated more with the type of life I wanted to live. But the path there seemed so blurry that I couldn't see past 10 meters in front of me. I wouldn't even know if there was a huge cliff 5 meters on the right side, a bear ready to rip me from behind, or a giant boulder blocking my view to the other side that would force me to detour.
To keep moving, I must tap into a different part of myself—the one that has been dormant for so long—the one who can help me be comfortable exploring uncertainties and not let fear consume me repeatedly. To do this, I must relinquish any burdens that no longer serve me and embrace a new sense of bravery and agency.
My challenge is to be accountable to myself. I need to do the work even though no one is looking, show up for myself even though I don't feel like it, and keep climbing despite stormy weather.
My life was boring; I was stuck in a routine.
David Eagleman, a neuroscientist at Stanford University, has this theory about "How to seem as though you live longer."
He said:
"There is only one way to slow time: seek novelty. This works because new experiences cause the brain to write down more memory. When you read that back out retrospectively, the event seems to have lasted longer."
After I quit my job, I embarked on a four-month journey across seven European and Asian countries. Every day was filled with new experiences and people to meet, and I was constantly amazed by what I encountered. I walked along the canals in Amsterdam, visited a windmill, browsed a bookstore in Berlin, went sightseeing in Alhambra, and got lost in the streets of Barcelona. I also walked up hilly roads in Lisbon, enjoyed the nightlife and wine in Porto, and went hiking in Madeira and Japan. At the end of each day, I would reflect on all that had occurred, and it was always so fulfilling. My brain was working overtime to process all the new information I had come across, and there was still so much more to discover.
The trip reminded me about how important it is to seek novelty and feel the awe of new experiences. It refreshed my mind and made me feel excited again.
I have now integrated an adventurous lifestyle into my routine. Every quarter, I venture into nature, climbing a mountain with friends. These novel experiences give me a sense of joy and wonder that life is not just about achieving success, money, and status. Life is also about exciting moments, such as exploring new places with people I enjoy hanging around.
During my trip, I also made some friends. I poked around people I met while queuing in line, sitting in the bars and airport, hiking in the mountains, and attending nomad meetups across countries. I could hear incredible stories from new people I wouldn't have encountered if I had just stayed in my routine schedule.
I asked a girl when we were boarding at the airport who had just quit her job moving from Berlin back to her hometown, Barcelona. She missed her family; I spoke to an immigrant old man at a nomad meetup in Porto where he had to separate from his daughter due to some problems in his country; I played cards all night with two girls in my Airbnb, I became a hiking buddies with a guy in Japan. A woman in line for Yakitori bar in Japan shared her must-visit list of spots in the country.
I realized that what made my trip unforgettable wasn't cool places, amazing foods, or being free, but random people I met along the way who fuelled me with stories. They added more flavor and richness to what had been a great trip all along. I've connected with more people online, especially in my courses, including Write of Passage. Even though I don't have a big traveling plan this year, I'm planning a mini trip to go to some places and connect with people randomly. Nomad Meetup is the best place to find new friends. Life is boring if we don't mix conversations with old, comforting, and new, surprising friends.
As I write this post, I reminisce about those trips. I am excited to embark on my new life and reach the summit of the new mountain I've been climbing for these past couple of months. I don't know what lies ahead, but I want to keep living my life in novel ways to avoid my poor life.
Thank you to Write of Passage friends who gave me with valuable feedbacks: Becky Isjwara, Michael Ficther, Mishaal Patel, Justin Nothling, and Jisoo Kim.
💡 Life Update:
🙌 Finally, the person I look up the most comes to my favorite podcast show: Tim Ferris on Modern Wisdom.
💎 My favorite quote of the week: “The life you want is on the other side of fear.”
📚 Books I’m reading: The Almanack of Naval Ravikant.
🎬 Recent favorite Netflix series: Ripley and Baby Reindeer.
📨 New project I’m working on: https://creatorbullets.beehiiv.com/ (The 5-minute actionable insights, resources, and strategies on how top 1% creators and solopreneurs monetize their businesses).