A few months ago, during a cloudy March afternoon in Seattle, I decided that I’d had enough. I kept asking myself what kind of person I was. What made me happy? What did I want to accomplish? I stopped thinking about the future as a space filled with opportunity and excitement, and started dreading its uncertainty instead. I felt powerless - as if my life story had been prewritten and nothing could be done to change its trajectory. These feelings persisted far longer than a normal down spell; something had to change.
In the span of two weeks, I quit my job, sold everything in the apartment I had just moved into 2 months prior, and flew back to my family in Austin. Instead of mindlessly going through the motions of the life I had established, I wanted to prove to myself that I had full control over everything in my life. And just like that, I was on a flight to Ljubljana, Slovenia.
Lesson #1 - Controlling Stimulation
My first adventure was a 100 mile trek through the Triglav National Park in Slovenia (vlogged this!). I had mapped out a route combining the Juliana Trail and the Alpe-Adria Trail, and my goal was to walk all the way from Lake Bled, Slovenia to Cividale del Friuli, Italy.
One of the rules that I set for myself - no music (though I did break this on one particularly difficult section). On a normal day in Seattle, you would find me with AirPods lodged in my ears during every idle moment. From walking to the coffee shop, shopping for groceries at Trader Joe's, or writing code in the office, I required something to be playing in the background. I was sick of my need for constant stimulation and decided to satisfy my auditory cravings with the sounds of the great outdoors.
Over the next 8 days, I listened to the wind howl as the sky turned black, and the birds chirp as the sky cleared up. I heard rhythms in the sound of my boots rocking across gravel, and my carabiner clips dangling across my backpack. I heard the kick drum of a lightning bolt strike in the distance, and the ambient hiss of raindrops slowly crescendo into a roaring downpour.
Combining the "no music" rule with the absence of my cell phone, the reduction of stimulation drastically transformed my mindset. Those first few days were a bit boring, but I was able to dig deeper into my brain and actively hold onto a single train of thought. My focus skyrocketed, and I stopped worrying about the future. I felt as if my brain was compensating for the lack of artificial stimuli by becoming hyper aware of my surroundings. A week into the trek, I would stare at the ground and track ants crawling in my peripheral vision. I'd hear the rustling of a bush 40 feet away and see the tail of a squirrel right as it disappeared into the foliage.
Stimulus is one hell of a drug - I've noticed that when I constantly rely on any source of stimulus (could be caffeine, music, TV, social media, etc) my brain slowly goes haywire. I tend to cycle through these different forms and slowly disconnect from my brain's inner monologue. It's important to take time throughout the day to destimulate, and make sure that you're not reliant on it.
Taking small actions like working out at least once a week without music, walking for 15 minutes without my phone on me, or skipping coffee every few days has helped me stay aware of my stimulus diet. I appreciate those things a lot more, and I'm able to use the time to listen to my inner voice.
Lesson #2 - Trying is Good Enough Sometimes
I'd never been completely alone before - this was my first solo trip. As soon as I stepped off the plane, it hit me that I didn't know a single person on this entire continent. I had been alone with my thoughts for the past 10 days while I was on the trek, and I was looking forward to finally having people to talk to when I finished. Anyone that's stayed in a hostel will tell you that all you need to make friends is cheap beer, early 2000's music, and a dingy room (last two are optional). And it was true!
The variety of life experiences, stories, and cultures I was exposed to was amazing. I made friends from Australia, Germany, China, Brazil - all over the world. But pretty soon, the novelty of this began to wear off. After a month and a half of traveling, I'd have days where I would lay in my bed at 10 PM not wanting to talk to a single soul. I've never been a complete extrovert, and it definitely takes some level of energy out of me to approach strangers and form connections.
There would be times where I would walk into a room packed with strangers and I would feel my social inhibitions kicking in. My muscles would tense up, my eyes would dart back and forth, and I would miss the comfort and familiarity of falling back on my existing friends for social connection. I would leave with my head down feeling ashamed that I had flown across the world to travel and not made the most of this opportunity.
So I made a rule - if I was at a public place for the day, I would have to approach at least 5 strangers before allowing myself to leave. It started at a hostel kitchen in Vienna, where I made the rounds against my will and ended up getting museum recommendations from a Brazilian exchange student going to the University of Vienna. Don't get me wrong - there were times when I would meagerly walk up to a group of people and get weird looks, turned backs, and awkward smiles. I stumbled over my words, and talking to some people felt like trying to fit a square peg into a round hole.
Throughout the rest of the trip, implementing this rule helped me fight those feelings of social friction that I had battled for my entire life. I learned that most people are receptive to new conversations no matter how you may perceive them on first glance. And more importantly, by setting a minimum action that I knew I could accomplish, I was able to challenge myself without holding lofty expectations on what the outcome should be.