On "Lifestyle Design"

Yesterday, a friend teased me about my looming working holiday abroad with the words, "So you’re doing high-level lifestyle-design now."

Lifestyle design is one of those terms that gives me massive pause ... and a giggle. It sounds like it was coined by some disaffected first-world dropout trying to justify a lack of direction by making it a "thing." Like it's acceptable to do something different from "the norm" if it has a "legitimate" name your jealous brother can type into the Wikipedia search box, or your mum can Google.

Not coincidentally, I also spoke with the Canadian about things in life so often being continued by sheer momentum. I dread the thought of having prettymuch any aspect of life driven by sheer momentum. There are times when momentum is extremely welcome, but in those cases, it's usually not all you have. When you're grateful for momentum, it's usually because you want the thing the momentum is helping you to achieve, and you want it very much.

But if momentum is what's keeping you going, you're probably in some trouble. And if, when you think about that, you start justifying your actions by conjuring up a raft of other things that are keeping you doing what you're doing, well, I'll leave you to it.

For the rest of us, these considerations point us back to lifestyle design. I hold no truck with the idea of lifestyle design, but who doesn't believe in trying to make themselves happy? As happy as possible? Who?

So why do I feel foolish telling my friends I work about three days a week, often in cosy bars, and I'm off to sit in a pool of bubbling mud next month? It's probably because I can't understand why everyone isn't doing this.

No, really: why isn't everyone who can do this doing this? By "who can do this" I mean, basically, everyone working online. For those who are somehow wedded to working five days a week for someone else, or get such a huge kick out of work that they're thrilled to do it 40+ hours a week, happy days and good luck. But for those who aren't, and like the sound of working less than full-time so they can do other stuff, I can come up with only one reason: momentum.

It's no happy accident that I live this way, and I feel fortunate I didn't take a job like teaching or factory work, where I'd have to be on site. I'm also glad I steered clear of management aspirations which might bind me to locations or hours. Sure, this isn't a straight-up dreamboat, but I am comprehensively thrilled to do the work I do, and work the hours I work, and have the rest of the time to myself. Who wouldn't be? It means freedom. Are people scared of freedom? Is that it?

I think we can safely say I don't get it.