“I don’t feel like it”

This phrase is my enemy. Since I was a child and learned how to speak these words, this motto has been permanently etched in my mind. The slogan sits on the tip of my tongue, furiously awaiting the next moment it will be unleashed into the world. Once said the utterance ejects, ruins any plan or goal that is challenging me, then retreats back into my mouth until the next moment of desire arises.

The frequency that I have spoken these words is only outnumbered by the times I have thought them. Even while I write this and think about the 3 other projects I need to continue, this expression echos in my cranium, causing me to stop in my tracks and ignore what needs to be done. Truth be told, I rarely feel like doing anything at all. If I had the means I would drift along aimlessly, visiting town after town and engulfing myself in the various cultures that are contained in the cities.

This aloofness is far from ideal, and opposite of mastery, but that’s typically what I feel like doing. What stops me is the discomfort that will come from living off the land and on the streets, which is an even sadder step away from serenity. I desire to be financially stable enough to roam freely without risk of thirst, hunger, safety or shelter, but this craving is foolish because financial freedom will only make me a target of thievery.

If I truly have nothing, then I have nothing to fear other than bodily harm, so I suppose I fear the pain and suffering that tags along with what I truly want. I could literally quit my job right now and begin this life — I could sell off all my possessions, sublease my studio, deposit my final checks and become a traveling vagrant. I could live off the kindness and generosity of strangers, and struggle day to day to find water to drink, food to eat and a place to sleep.

This life is at my fingertips at all points in time — a reality where survival is my sole concern. I would no longer be tethered to society, freed from the shackles that keep me working for a paycheck every week that earns meaningless money to be spent on frivolous material matters. No longer would I use dollars to demand the basics required for existence.

I would skip the purchasing step and go straight to gaining. The stress, anxiety and depression that spawns from this sensory overloading civilization would cease and peace would prosper in my own personal paradise. Why don’t I decide to live this lifestyle? What is sincerely stopping me from obtaining fundamental tranquility?

I don’t feel like it.