We Burned Our Boats

"We are faltering, but we must not let it make us afraid and perhaps surrender the new things we have gained. We cannot return to the old. We have burned our boats; all that remains is for us to be brave and let happen what may. Let us only go forward, let us make a move!"

Neitzsche

by Dusty Breeding

Exactly one year ago this month, we burned our boats.

In the aftermath of my father's unexpected death, we spent the following weeks wrestling with all the usual things that come in the aftermath of tragedy. One of the things we wrestled with was the often cliché concept of not knowing the hour. My dad died at 68, which means the midpoint of his life occurred sometime in his 34th year. I was 35. Cecily was 33. It hit us that we might very well be in the midpoint of our own lives. So we decided to take stock of the things we've always wanted to do that we have been putting off. We realized we had been putting those things off because we were comfortable.

For the past ten years, we had lived among incredible humans. We did work that brought great purpose and meaning. We established ourselves financially, and fell in love with our town, our mountains, our ocean views, and our sunsets. We have laughed, cried, and sweated in this place and among these people. It was incredible.

But ten years had passed far too quickly for comfort. And if we weren’t careful, another decade would vaporize just as easily.

We knew there were things we still wanted to do. Maybe more accurately, things we still wanted to learn. About life. About the world. About ourselves. And so one year ago, we decided to burn the boats. I quit my job. We moved out of our home. We traded the certainties of work (paycheck) and home for the uncertainties of self-employed life in an RV.

The ensuing year has been more challenging than either of us imagined. Had we known, we likely would not have done it (which makes me glad we did not know). I have wrestled with my identity and purpose more than expected and more than has been comfortable. Cecily and I have argued and wrestled with one another more than ever. Our finances have been a whirlwind. But that’s what it means to have burned the boats: there is no going back. We cannot unring this bell.

All that remains is for us to be brave and let happen what may.