motivation | Roaming days

Dream job, or right job?

on March 23, 2016

As a young child, I wanted to be a train driver.

Going to the city was such a rare but magical trip. Waiting on the train station was almost unbearable. As I watched the horizon, I would lean forward to catch the first glimpse of the old rattler coming around the corner.

It seemed like an eternity from when the train finally appeared, to when it screeched and groaned it’s way into the station. The doors then hissed, and opened. We took a careful but excited step onto the train, to take our first breath of that distinct old train smell.

As I grew up, I learnt that I loved the entire train experience. It was never really about being the train driver. Sometimes we get so caught up in the atmosphere of what surrounds a job that we forget about what the job actually is, and whether it’s truly what we want, and if it even meets our skills or needs.

I’m not one to sit still for long, and despite a very safe driving record, my attention to detail is weak when it comes to reading road signs. This is not the ideal skill set for a train driver, but perfect for a passenger staring out the window.

So often I hear about people doing countless years of university to get into a job they think would be fun, or will earn them lots of money, or because their parents told them that’s what they should do. But they hate it. They do something else.

We all have a different path. For me, I never in my wildest dreams thought that I’d spend almost all of my 17-year working career in life insurance. I could ask every child on the planet, “what do you want to be when you grow up?” Not one of them would say, “I want to work in insurance”.

As a teen I wanted to be a paramedic. I’ve always operated on adrenaline and thrived under pressure, so perhaps this would have been a suitable career choice. However, an oncoming car hitting a helpless pedestrian (me) changed my outlook on life.

I decided to focus on tourism. I wanted to travel, see the world, and experience other cultures. I did a tourism TAFE (college) course while in high school, and studied Japanese. Again, I got caught up in the idea of travel, and didn’t really understand ‘tourism’.

We didn’t really have guidance counsellors at school, because perhaps they would have told me that the tourism industry doesn’t pay enough money to catch a bus to the next town.

Sometimes you need to recognise when a decision may be detrimental to your objective. So when I was offered a traineeship at the Sheraton in Sydney, I rejected my first, and at the time my only, job offer.

So my Dad said, “Why don’t you join the bank?”

“Not a chance, I will never work for a bank,” I replied.

Three months later I was working for the bank.

Seventeen years later, I’m still at a bank. Of course I’ve had my good days and bad days over that time, but overall it has been a fulfilling experience. I made the choice to progress my career and challenge myself everyday, and more often than not, I felt a sense of purpose in what I was doing.

Is it my dream job? Maybe not, but it’s given me an incredible platform of skills and experience. I’ve worked with some truly amazing and talented people. I’ve worked on projects that I’m proud to have been involved with, and I’ve genuinely tried to make a positive difference in an industry that has had to overcome negative public perception.

It has been my enabler to get me to this point in my life. Not only has it fulfilled many of my dreams already, including the opportunity to take a family year off and create ‘Roaming Days’, it more importantly has opened many paths for the future.

It’s not that I don’t believe in a ‘dream job’. But I’m an advocate for having the right job for a time in one’s life, as a job is only one portion of living a full life.

Wherever you are on your path, here are a couple of simple tasks you can do to check in with yourself:

1. Are you getting the most out of your job?

We’re each better suited to and enjoy different aspects of any job. Ideally, you need to understand what these are for you, and what psychological need(s) they are fulfilling.

A simple place to start is looking at Maslow’s Hierarchy of Needs. Try to identify what you need in your job, for example: ‘a sense of belonging’, ‘achievement’, and/or ‘respect from others’. Once you have your list, go through and write down examples of things that have happened at work in the last 3 months that have met your needs.

If you find that you are not meeting your needs:

At a minimum, you should be doing tasks that you’re 1) good at and 2) enjoy doing. We all have things in any role that we dislike doing, but they should be the minority.
Ask for further development or training, and continue to build your resume. Some of your needs can be met by undertaking such activities.
Work towards a goal. It doesn’t have to big. Little wins will help to keep you motivated.

2. Does your job suit your skills?

A mentor once asked me to make a list of my skills. I realised that basically none of my core skills had anything to do with insurance, but rather soft skills like good communication, relationship management, time management and ability to deliver on tight deadlines, and so on.

I highly recommend this activity, it may open up opportunities you didn’t even know you had!

3. Can you manage a balanced lifestyle?

Work often becomes the centre of ones life. I’ve been there. We blame the job, or too much work, but we never blame ourselves and how we personally are contributing to the problem.

Over the years, I’ve made many changes to regain life balance. However, I’ve seen many people around me that are unable to enforce such disciplines on themselves.

It’s bad enough to spend a crazy amount of time at work, but it’s worse when all of your life decisions become based around it. For example: you can’t make family events, you don’t have time to spend with your children, you fail to give yourself any down time, and/or your fitness and health suffers.

The risk of your job becoming your life is that you lose all perception of the world around you. You’ll be out of balance, and this is not good for your soul. Do this simple life balance test to see how you measure up.

4. Do you have a passion outside of work?

Even if what you do is what you’re most passionate about, have another passion outside of your job. It helps create a balanced lifestyle because you have something other than work to look forward to and keep your mind engaged. As a result, your happiness levels are likely to increase – plus you’ll be more interesting (subject to your passion) 😉

5. Are you in the right job?

If you’re not happy with what you’re doing, if you don’t feel like the job is fulfilling in any way, if you generally dislike getting out of bed every day to go to work, YOU have to make the decision to change.

So really, it’s as simple as this, “Accept what you do, or change what you do”. Find you’re right job and make the most of your ‘working’ life.

Happy living,

Roaming days

4 Comments

This is home…

on January 6, 2016

If I were to tell you that we’ve moved 5 times in 2 years, you may be right to question our sanity.

I’ve heard that the average person moves around 11 times in their lifetime, and we’ve knocked over nearly half that in the same time it takes some people to unpack from a single move.

Recently, we’ve taken a fairly liberal approach to life, letting the tides flow how they will, and not trying to swim against them.

It all started back in Australia, with our kids running naked and free in our backyard. Bathed in sunlight, ice blocks (popsicles) dripping everywhere, the sound of lawn mowers running, kids laughing, and friendly neighbours dropping by.

This was home, and we loved it.

But who wants 8 months of summer every year? It was time to four season our life and move to Canada. The move aired adventure and opportunity, with absolutely no clue as to how the next year or two would transpire.

We started living with family in a finished basement while we adjusted to the new sub-zero weather conditions. We had to adjust quickly, as we faced a record breaking winter of low temperatures and snow fall. If we could survive the worst winter in almost 60 years, we were going to be okay!

This was home, and it was great to be living with family and having our own little space to retreat.

When you dream something so grand as to live in a motorhome and travel North America with 2 kids under 5, it doesn’t happen magically. There’s a ton of work, commitment and sacrifice to make it happen.

As we loaded the kids into our new (used) motorhome and set off on this adventure, I’m sure I heard my wife laugh and mutter ‘What the f#%k are we doing?’ It seemed surreal that we’d made this dream come true!

A wise soul said to me recently, ‘it’s not about the length of time you spend on the road. The road is the road. It’s the openness to learn and grow… and to let go.’ We love these words, and they are close to our heart. Living on the road is such a humbling experience.

This was home, and North America was our backyard.

We then decided to spend some time establishing ourselves in a new country. While we searched for work, we moved back into the family basement as the cold weather made the RV unliveable.

Fortunately, the job hunt was quick and we were packing again. The move to a high-rise condo was contrastingly different to the freedom of a motorhome.

We had every possible convenience at our doorstep. It was big city living; an endless choice of shops, restaurants, and nightlife. However, we hardly used any of it. Instead we focused on experiences. We took them hiking, biking, to parks, and shows and ballets, and lots of swimming in the condo pool. We even had the kids skiing down a little hill in the middle of the city – which was perfect for teaching them.

This was home, and for a short time, it was fun to be as high as the birds (we literally watched birds soar passed our window).

In the last two years, we’ve not had a clear destination in mind. Despite this, we’ve not been lost, nor have we been blindly out of control. We left Australia with an open mind, willing to let go of the life we knew, and embrace whatever came our way.

As a result, the concept of ‘home’ became more fluent for us. We learnt by living in the motorhome that once we closed the blinds at night, no matter where we were parked, we were home.

One night in the condo, as we sat overlooking the city lights, my wife and I realised this was a temporary home. It didn’t represent us, or the things that we wanted for our little family. The sheer recognition of this immediately opened up new possibilities. Within weeks, our life was heading in a new direction.

Now, I’m staring out into our newest backyard. Touched by the lightest remnants of an icy snow, the leaning wooden fence loosely defines our backyard. Beyond is a huge horse paddock, and beyond that seems to be endless acres of rural land to explore.

We find ourselves in an adoring and thoughtful community, in a farmhouse that sometimes feels like the middle of nowhere (in a good way).

This is home… for now.

1 Comment

Little Treasure

on May 29, 2015

Intro

“What does this town have?” She asked with utmost seriousness.

I had a feeling I knew what the answer was going to be. It was like walking through the door of a New York hotel room; what you see is what you get.

If we’d been talking to a modest man, I may have been correct in my assumption. But this was no ordinary man. He was not for a single second deterred by the question. “We have a convenient store across there. Of course there’s the award-winning restaurant. They go in their with money in their pockets, and they come out with their belly’s full.”

He barely took a breath before continuing. “We have a population of 75 people, but we have our own award winning waste water treatment facility, and an award winning theatre. We also have our own council.“

He said this with an endearing contentment of the life he’d spent in this town. He had a hop in his woolly-socked steps, and pleasure in his soul.

He was the candle-maker.

I’ve seen lively towns, and I’ve seen dead towns. This one still had a flutter of a heartbeat.

It was the end of summer, however something told me that is was not a bustling summer town, partly because of the absence of a chip stand, which is practically a must in any summer tourist town in Canada.

Truth be told, the Trans Canada highway decided to give this town a miss. Most wheels don’t hit the streets of Victoria by the Sea, but continue to speed down the highway.

It’s fair to say we had no intention of visiting this town when the day had started. We didn’t even know that it existed. Yet here we were.

We rolled slowly down the main street overlooking the water, eyeing off a potential parking spot for the 31ft motorhome.

With the absence of a designated spot for motorhomes, we parked on an empty patch of land by the waterside. The residents in the adjacent apartments had, for a short while, their water views built out.

Climbing out the camper was like any other time, one foot after the other. Yet looking up, we were confronted with glimpses of a beautiful oncoming sunset. It was a seaside village, quaint and charismatic.

But for all it mattered, this place could have been a ghost town, desolate and empty. All we needed was a key.

An hour earlier, we’d stopped at a visitor’s centre. Surely, at this time of year a prominent castor of light would let us ascend it’s stairs, and grant the wish of a little heart.

A ten minute conversation with the historical board had recommended that the owner of the pastel blue shed would hold the key.

III

On the corner we found the pastel blue shed. The windows allowed us to peruse the belongings inside. Along side an old bike were some tools. We could only assume that they were for candle making. This was the candle maker’s store.

However, the door was locked, which could be expected when the sign hanging on the door read ‘closed’.

We decided to try the house nearby. The sound of empty tapping repelled against the old wooden doors. Out on the street, a passer by said they should be home, so we tried again. The door remained shut. There were no footsteps. There were no voices.

Similar to the candle maker’s store, his house appeared empty. As we stood slightly helplessly on the front porch, we suddenly heard a voice, “Come to the side door”.

We shuffled the kids around to the side, and a woman met us.

There was a brief moment were it felt weird to be relentlessly tracking down the owner of an attraction that we wanted to see. Luckily this was a small town, because you couldn’t get away with this in the city,

“We heard your husband has the key?”

“I don’t know where he is.”

She looked around over our shoulders like he should be out in the front yard somewhere. “He should be home, we are due at our daughters’ for dinner shortly.”

We didn’t move. She seemed more perplexed by her husbands whereabouts than the strange family standing on her lawn. Almost like a complimentary prize, yet in fact a truly lovely gesture, she gave us as many pears as we could hold.

So now we were standing on the side lawn of a strangers house, holding pears, still looking for a key.

As if this were fiction, in the exact moment of our awkwardness on the side lawn, holding pears, she says, “Oh there he is.”

Without dropping a single pear, we pivoted 90 degrees to see a gangly fella on a bike. He looked delightfully happy, carefree, and surprisingly well dressed for a guy on a bike.

Moments later we shared our story of our search for a key. He instantly started to lead the way. The key was in his pocket.

VII

As the key jangled on the key chain, the kids could hardly contain their excitement. The key fitted the slot. Suddenly the big red door swung open, and we stepped inside a lighthouse.

The ground floor was the ‘Keeper’s of the Light’ museum, but there was no stopping the kids, as they climbed the stairs and looked out over the ocean.

Nearly six months after leaving Ontario, we had delivered on our daughter’s dream to climb inside a lighthouse. We’d got lost looking for a one in Seattle, and with most of the summer season attractions on the East Coast closed by the time we got there, we feared that we’d missed the opportunity.

But with commitment and determination, a big adventure delivered a little treasure.

9 Life Lessons Learnt Travelling in a Motorhome

on April 12, 2015

Dear Sparkles,

Our beloved motorhome, we owe you this long overdue thank you!

To the unobserving eye, you’re just another of the voluminous number of motorhomes across North America. You see them everywhere: transported to the same ol’ trailer park, driven south to escape the white stuff, or permanently residing in a backyard.

But not you Sparkles. You gave off a vibe that you were ready for adventure.

Were we destined to meet? Well, we searched motorhomes online for over a year to find you, at times very confused as to what would be the best motorhome for our trip. When we landed on the shores of Canada, you were on our short list. You stayed on the list through an RV show, and a couple of visits to RV traders.

It then came down to two. Although the 5th wheel was absolutely gorgeous, it didn’t make sense for our trip. We would be stopping often, we wouldn’t be in places very long, and the kids needed a table to play and do craft while we drove (rather than being stuck in the back of a truck).

You were the one. You were going to drive us 14,500 miles (21,000 kms) around North America. You were going to be our everything; our hotel, our restaurant, our playground, our transportation… our home.

I loved driving you from the minute I hoped in. You didn’t exactly hum. Perhaps I was fulfilling a sudden ‘trucker’ dream. You definitely had heart, and some impressive grunt. That’s why I wanted to call you Grizzly.

However, the name ‘Sparkles’ prevailed, as every time during the trip I said to the kids “Let’s get back to Grizzly”, I was instantly corrected with, ‘No Daddy, it’s Sparkles”.

We picked you up near Hamilton (outside of Toronto), and we both survived our trip home. It wasn’t a direct route as we were hoping to give you a new set of runners (read tires). I’d pre-ordered a beautiful set of 6 Cooper Discoverer tires. As we got closer to the gas station, which we had to go through to get to the garage, it dawned me how big you really were. It didn’t help that the gas station was minuscule, by far the smallest gas station I’d ever encountered.

Against my better judgment, I turned in and I felt like I was driving a monster truck through a kids miniature-land. Some tight manoeuvring found us alongside the garage. I jumped out and took a few steps towards the mechanic who had stepped out of the garage looking somewhat perplexed. “We can’t fit that in the garage, who did you speak to?” It’s ironic because it would not be the last time I would hear those words.

If I’d thought entering the gas station was difficult, the stakes were suddenly raised as we pulled out into Toronto traffic.

Now for most ordinary North American folk, you may scoff. But in Australia, we‘re still building 2 lane highways. So when I was faced with the goal of moving a 31ft vehicle across 4 lanes of Toronto traffic, from a standing start, with the maximum acceleration of a truck, and with my exit only a stone’s throw up the highway, you could say I wasn’t overly excited. Did I forget to mention that my read view mirrors had swung in without me noticing!

Over the next month or so we gave you a lot of lovin’, and finally a new set of tires. It was only fair that as we prepared ourselves for this adventure, we got you ready as well.

What you gave back to us is something that we are forever indebted to you for. This is what you taught us…

1. Dream big, and have the balls to make it a reality

From Elvis’ house in Memphis, to waking up beside the Mississippi River, from watching a bison crossing in Yellowstone National Park, to overlooking the mountains in Whistler, you allowed us to wake up somewhere new almost every single day for 7 months.

We fell in love with country music in Nashville, Tennessee, and were blessed by beautiful little cities like Jefferson City, Missouri. We reached the werewolf ridden La Push beach, Washington, and explored remote towns like Moose Factory, Ontario. Of course, the trip wouldn’t have been complete without visiting Anne of Green Gables in Prince Edward Island, and touching the Atlantic Ocean at the Fortress of Louisbourg, Cape Breton.

We lived our dream.

2. Be open to learning and change

Don’t get stuck in your ways. Be willing to try new things from which you may learn. Take a look at how you react and behave in different situations. Give yourself a chance to change!

3. Home can be anywhere

There is something very freeing about not knowing where you will sleep at night.

We tried Walmart parking lots, truck stops, little hideaways in National Parks and RV parks. You also managed to go ‘undetected’ for a few nights only a block or two off the main street of Banff, and saw us spending almost a week in Vancouver for $0.

It didn’t really matter where we went to sleep at night. You were our home. Once the blinds were drawn, we could have been anywhere and it didn’t matter.

You were the constant in our life, and you let our family be together in a way like many families couldn’t even imagine.

4. Appreciate the little things

A big house and lots of space rarely contributes to happiness. It just gives you lots of stuff, clutter, hard work, and a bigger debt to spend all of your time working to pay off.

It was so lovely to go back to simpler times with fewer things, and instead be out appreciating all the beauty this amazing continent has to offer.

5. Throw away the schedule, and just live in the moment

We had no itinerary, instead we listened to people we met on the road and made on the fly decisions about which direction we would head next.

We cleared our schedule of all organised activities, and let ourselves roam. We gave the kids North America as their playground, and WOW, did they embrace it!

You enabled us to cook dinner alongside many children’s playgrounds, giving the kids something to do at that crazy hour of the day when kids just need to burn off energy! You let us park, and have lunch, at the end of the beautiful gardens alongside the Parliament in Regina. We even had an afternoon nap and then got ready for the Grand Ole Opry in the parking lot.

We learnt to go with the flow, and live in the moment.

6. Be thankful

Each day we told each other what we were thankful for.

Looking back on the trip, we were thankful that you were with us everywhere! It was a convenience that we greatly appreciated. We could be out sightseeing and just drop in for lunch. If we forgot something, you were minutes away. If we went for a swim by the beach, we could come back and rinse off quickly in the shower. When I spilt my beer all over my daughter whilst out for dinner, I could whisk her away for a clean set of clothes and be back well before mains arrived… and just in time for a new cold one to be delivered to the table.

7. What do we really need in our life.

We had a tiny kettle that boiled just enough water for 2 cups… all we needed. Marlea found a neat set of kitchen utensils that magnetised to each other, and took up no space at all.

The reality was, we couldn’t buy anything more than what we needed. We food shopped for a couple of days at a time. We had not the space inside, nor the storage underneath, to carry excess baggage. Everything we had on us for the trip was essential, almost daily.

8. Family and friends are everything, and new friends are everywhere

While we de-winterised you, we had the pleasure of staying with two very wonderful family friends. Our hosts were incredibly thoughtful to invite us into their home. It was hard to leave such an amazing home, that had the most peaceful outlook I’ve ever been privileged to see and experience first hand.

In Calgary, we caught up with cousins that Marlea had seen only for 10 minutes in 10 years. It was a wonderful week with a very beautiful family. The kids played amazingly well, I got a fishing lesson, and cousins reunited.

In August, we hit Quebec for an incredible family reunion. It remains one of the highlights of the trip, and it was wonderful to meet the extended family for the first time.

Of course, we will never forget the moments created on our trip thanks to wonderful people that came in to our lives.

Our first ever RV park in Myrtle Beach was the perfect start to our trip. Dora found an adorable little friend, and they sung Frozen together at a Karaoke night. It was such a lovely way to start our adventure, and really set the tone for how we interacted with people along the way.

Golden, Colordo was a place we intended to stay for only a night or two. But we connected with another family, and we spent a week there. We hardly saw Dora for the week, as she found a new bestie. Boots had a friend too, and so did mommy and daddy. Great times, lasting memories.

Again, in Yellowstone, we extended our stay in order to spend more time with new found friends. Nearly every night in an RV park, we spent the evening chatting with our new neighbours.

Another friend we still chat with, we met for 5 minutes in a parking lot while admiring her scooter covered in bumper stickers from her RV travels.

It really didn’t matter whether it was a Walmart parking lot, a tourist attraction, or an RV park, we continued to find and connect with people from all over North America.

We shared conversation, drinks, stories, travelling tips, and a general happiness for life. It’s very addictive.

9. Kindness goes a long way

You did not cause one road kill in your 21,000 km. Bugs – thousands. But animals – zero.

We experienced and offered up kindness. It was hard not to when you have travelled the miles and seen the things that we’d seen. People we’re incredibly friendly and kind to us, and welcomed us into their ‘homes’ and lives almost instantly; and we did the same. Where we could, we gave presents to families and people in need. All we can say is that the world is a truly a better place when kindness exists.

Sparkles, we loved sharing this adventure with you, and you made us smile and the kids squeal every time we saw you. You were always easy to find in the parking lots. 🙂 You faced some tough driving situations, some long days, and cold nights, but you didn’t complain once.

You crossed the Rockies… twice. You kept us safe. You evaded tornadoes in Georgia, Colorado and Wyoming.

We honestly believe you enjoyed the trip as much as we did.

Thank you for being part of our family last year, and creating the most amazing memories.

❤ Roaming Days

Blank Canvas

on January 26, 2013

A blank canvas is a simple, well-worn analogy. But with a little twist, we have found it to be quite powerful and it has become the premise for our trip and adventure that we’ll embark upon by the end of 2013. But to be honest, the adventure has already begun!

Blank canvas is not about starting a new life. Instead it’s a change of mindset. It’s about a new way of looking at each day. It encourages us to live life through practical learning, emotional experiences, and soul-searching adventure. It’s finding beauty in everyday life, and capturing that picture.

What an exciting time ahead for our family. Wow, in less than 12 months we will walk away from a life that we’ve grown very comfortable in … careers, a home, stability, and routine. We will land on the shores of Canada for an adventure, blended with family time and a road trip that we’ve only ever dared to dream about until now.

What I feel most passionate about is the change in lifestyle. No suit, no clock, no stuff (or at least less stuff). And it will be about freedom, fun and family. Why would anyone give me a strange look if I told them that!! 🙂

Making the decision

We’d spoken about a life in Canada, but a decision to uproot our family is not made lightly. We are happy in Australia. We live in one of the most beautiful countries in the world, we have a well-established life, and my family is here. Everything I know, everything I’ve grown up with, is here around me.

However, in my day to day life I felt as though I’d fallen into the trap of chasing an imaginary finish line. When you’re moving so quickly through life, it’s like flicking the TV channels; you get a bit of everything but you don’t relax and enjoy the show.

So I asked myself this question. Would I have any regrets in 30 years if I accepted my current life as all that it would be?

And the answer was yes. Whilst I have no complaints about my life, when I looked back at the things that have shaped me, travel stood strong. Walking the Grand Canyon as a young bloke, hiking in Nepal, family camping at a little place called Burrier, and experiencing rural China are just a handful of trips and experiences that have changed who I am. The more one lives life, rather than just exists, the more nutrition there is for the mind. And this is a philosophy I want to share with my kids.

I’m taking this time to be with my young family, to see the world, and to explore my passion of photography. If I end back in the same place, so be it. I have lost nothing, I have gained everything.

And so, the decision was made that we needed to let go, be fearless, and be open to whatever lies ahead for us.

Phrases such as ‘Sea Change’ or ‘Tree Change’ have been coined due to the growing trend of people leaving the hustle and bustle of the city. Our family will be making what we’ve coined as a ‘Season Change’. Moving from Australia to Canada, from the hot to the cold, from Kangaroos to Polar Bears, from roundabouts to 4-way stops, from 2 seasons to 4. We decided to trust our instincts and follow our hearts. We hope you can come along for the ride as we roam Canada!

By Ben Gray

1 Comment

Posts tagged ‘motivation’