The Art of Moving Mountains
Starting from zero is a strange kind of freedom. Not the romantic kind, but the real kind. We never truly start from nothing. We never truly start from zero. Our past experiences, skills we’ve learned along the way, and decisions we’ve made, they stick with us. But when you’re out of money, with no job and no place to sleep, it feels like zero.
And that’s where I’m at, right now, writing this.
A month ago, I took a risk. It backfired. I lost my job, my home, and any illusion of control I had. I told myself it was the universe giving me a sign. But the universe doesn’t pay for your bus ticket, or your next meal. Without a plan or money, freedom quickly starts to feel like a trap.
I’m still figuring it out. Where to go, how to make money, who to ask for help. That last one matters more than you think.
Because even with all the rough history between me and my father, he’s still there. Still helping. I wouldn’t have made it this far without him. But in your 20s, pride is expensive. You don’t want to keep showing up at your parents’ doorstep, tail tucked between your legs. Swallowing your pride is a sacrifice that no one prepares you for.
But if you’re in the same place — broke, scared, and unsure — here’s what I’ll say:
Be radical. Take a risk that scares you. Not because it’s brave, but because you’ve got nothing to lose. Go volunteer on another continent. Work on a farm. Pick up a new skill. Trade the overstimulation of the city for the sound of waves on the beach, or do the opposite.
And if you’ve got a support system, use it. Even if it hurts to ask.
But whatever you do, go all in. Don’t half-ass this. Make a decision and stick to it until it either works or it teaches you something.
It took me a long time to understand that choosing flight over fight just delays the inevitable. Growth doesn’t happen in the running — it happens when you stay. When you stick it out a week longer. When you take that job in a place you’ve never been. When you finally do the thing that’s always scared you. That’s where the magic is.
I hate to admit it, but the gurus aren’t always wrong. Sometimes it does take a mountain to turn your life around.
In my case, it was a Matterhorn-sized mountain.
Yours might be smaller. Or bigger. But whatever it is, climb it.