Key Takeaways
- Looking back, what I remember the most about cubicle life was the utter boredom. Back before I started traveling, I worked in hospital administration:
- There were five people in my office, all older than me. I worked for one of the doctors. There often wasn’t much work, so I spent most of my days on M
- When I came back from my first trip in 2008 and returned to the world of hospital administration, it was the boredom and large amount of downtime that
Looking back, what stands out most about my years in office work was the deep, unrelenting boredom. Before launching Route for Less, I worked in hospital administration—first supporting patient families on inpatient units, then in the surgery department’s administrative office.
There were five people in my office, all older than me. I reported to one of the physicians. Work was often sparse, so my days were filled with early social media (remember MySpace and Friendster?) or scrolling news sites.
After returning from my first extended trip in 2008, that same monotony pushed me to start a travel blog—eventually evolving into routeforless.com.
Every day felt identical. I felt stagnant, uninspired, and disconnected from growth.
“What am I doing wrong?” I’d ask myself. “I work, exercise, socialize, and have hobbies. Isn’t this what success looks like?”
Yet something essential was missing—a vital piece of the puzzle. I felt like the character from *Office Space*: going through motions without meaning. My mother once said it was because I hadn’t found work I truly loved. “Once you do,” she told me, “it won’t just be a job—it’ll be part of who you are.”
But I don’t believe passion is discovered by journaling prompts or vision boards. It emerges—not from quiet contemplation—but from active living.
You go out, try things, get messy, pay attention—and eventually realize: “This? This is what energizes me.”
A few years ago, I met a woman in Thailand whose uncle fell gravely ill in a Bangkok hospital. As she cared for him, she recognized a profound truth: her deepest fulfillment came from caring for others. When her trip ended, she left her marketing career behind and enrolled in nursing school.
Another friend, a lawyer, recently dove into gardening with his wife. With each season, he grew more captivated by soil health, sustainable land use, and food sovereignty—and less engaged by courtroom briefs. Now, as his wife nears completion of her doctorate, they’re scouting college towns where they can buy land and begin farming full-time.
When I first began traveling long-term, many called it reckless—abandoning stability for uncertainty. But I realized the so-called “American dream” wasn’t designed for me. I was a circle trying to fit into a square hole.
Some thrive in structured 9-to-5 roles—and that’s valid. But I’m not one of them.
Travel didn’t just change my location—it revealed what I lived for.
It was only after leaving routine behind and embracing discomfort that I uncovered what truly lit me up.
After several years of building routeforless.com to fund my journeys, I paused and thought: “Wait—this is what I enjoy? This is my career?”
I hadn’t searched for passion. I’d stumbled into it—by showing up, experimenting, and staying open.
If you feel stuck, restless, or constantly daydreaming about a different life—you need action, not just aspiration.
You must step outside your comfort zone, try new things, accept failure as feedback, and keep adjusting course.
You can’t win the game of life if you never play.
Binge-watching won’t transform your reality. Skipping workouts won’t build strength. Staying home won’t expand your community. Avoiding dates won’t lead to connection. And hesitation won’t reveal your capabilities.
You have to arrive at the dance—even if you don’t know the steps yet.
Life isn’t something that happens *to* you. It’s something you participate in—outside your door, beyond your screen, in real time and real space.
The day I resigned wasn’t just an end—it was movement toward the life I wanted. Launching routeforless.com was another deliberate step forward.
Now, every small choice adds momentum: reading 10 minutes longer, cooking instead of ordering in, signing up for archery (blame *The Hunger Games*), learning composting basics, joining a hiking group, or finally booking that flight deal I’d been eyeing for weeks.
My life won’t shift unless I choose to shift it.
So much becomes possible when you engage fully.
But engagement is the prerequisite. You have to play—to win, to grow, to become.
Even if you never “find your passion,” you’ll discover parts of yourself you didn’t know existed—new curiosities, unexpected joys, deeper resilience.
Stop waiting for permission. Stop waiting for certainty. Step outside. Make the first move.
Small ripples, consistently made, become waves that reshape your shore.
