Between the Andes and Me

They have cradled you in custom, they have primed you with their preaching, They have soaked you in convention through and through; They have put you in a showcase; you're a credit to their teaching — But can't you hear the Wild? — it's calling you. Let us probe the silent places, let us seek what luck betide us; Let us journey to a lonely land I know. There's a whisper on the night wind, there's a star agleam to guide us, And the Wild is calling, calling . . . let us go. - Robert Service

Before we continue, I need to let something go—liquid guilt, if you may—the way it shapes itself and disappears for years before it resurfaces, shinier than ever. 

In 2016, I was at the peak of my career. Every partner noticed my willingness to overextend myself at work. In corporate speak, this makes you a high performer. When you’re a “high-p,” you tend to exclude yourself from anything that does not propel you in the workplace. 

You may start skipping friend meetups, family meals, hangouts, vacations, you name it. All for the promise of a better “something” at some point in the future. We tend to name it “sacrifice,” but what the fuck are we sacrificing? Have you ever sat down to think? What if the future you are working for does not exist? What if the people you want to enjoy it with are no longer here? What is the cost, we seldom know. I am here to share my cost, hoping you find out what you’re sacrificing in your pursuit. 

2016 

This is my story: In 2016, I hit a stride in my career. I was sought after, clients knew my name, I brought in money, and I got paid well. When you’re highly paid, you’re highly overworked. Everything comes your way because you’re the trusted source. And they (the company) know you’re ambitious enough to keep going. Your willingness to accept and not complain gets you noticed in these places. From Finance to Tech, the story is usually the same. If you can bear the work, you can eat the fruit.

Well, I kept going and going, like a ship without a rutter, just an engine, no direction. 

Jan 2017

In January 2017, I took a vacation to the Dominican Republic. For context, many of my childhood friends and family are there. I have countless memories of my grandmother taking me to the beach and teaching me about waves, plants, the land, its people, and the importance of checking in with all of them. 

During that vacation, I didn’t tell ANY family where I was. I did not check in with my energy sources. I call these ghost trips, and I do them often. At the bottom of my energy pit, I fly somewhere known and become a ghost. I plug in and find a coffee shop and places to clear my head. That January, I flew in, rented a car, drove by my town, and did not stop to say hi to the woman who practically gave me everything: my grandmother.

Feb 2017

In February of 2017, I began a cross-country trip to Chicago for a work move. A dear friend, let’s call him nobody, helped with the move. For context, this is a 12-14 hr cross-country drive to the Midwest. The journey started with tunes, jokes, and the usual analysis of the ups and downs of our lives. 

By hour six, I received a call from an aunt in the Dominican Republic. She told me that my grandmother was not doing well, and she advised that I head there as soon as possible. My hands were on the wheel, yet all the control I thought I had over my life evaporated. I felt this intense wave of guilt, shame, and grief take over.

How could I be so selfish? How could I forget how transient life is?

By hour 10, my grandmother had passed away, and I peeped another unanswered call notification as tears ran down my face. I accepted this fate but didn’t want to believe it. My last memory of her was taking her out of her bedside and to the beach, where we watched the waves talk about life, and for a moment in time, I felt like I had given her an ounce of the happiness she gave me. 

As Nobody and I arrived in Chicago, he unloaded the truck for me, and I booked the next flight out. As I arrived at the luxury apartment I had just rented, no degree of luxury could replace that my grandmother would never see me living this well. Suddenly, the things I was pursuing or their value didn’t mean shit to me. All I wanted was time to regress so I could pass by her house to stop and tell her how much she meant to me. 

I have been holding this shame and guilt for years; it comes and washes me, spirals me down. It was the genesis for me starting therapy in 2017, for which I am eternally grateful. Because of her, I evolved. 

So why now? 

Recently, I took a trip to the Inca Trail in Macchu Picchu with nine other friends. I’ll spare you the details because you need to experience it yourself. However, I will share this: there are times in those mountains when you, nature, and the sky are the only trinity walking the path. I felt her energy atop mountains, dancing between stars, reminding me to keep going. Her smile curved in between the night sky, her curly hair nestled in the trees of the Andes. I cried more in four days than I have cried in the last five years, and fuck that felt good. 

Something or someone (her) told me to let go in those mountains; this is the only way I know how to. I hope you also realize what you’re sacrificing while stepping on the gas. 

Best, 

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