
I also have, in my files, a letter from the Spanish government telling me my final work permit application had been denied, and that I had 15 days to leave the country, or else. I figured that if I had a Plan B that was just as exciting as my Plan A (working shitty jobs until I died poetically in my rented room in Madrid’s second-worst neighborhood) I’d probably feel less stressed about the possibility of my Plan A not working out… and I was right. Somewhere in my files, I have a page in a notebook outlining my plan to earn 800€ a month as a blogger so I could move to Latin America when I finally got kicked out of Spain. I was an illegal immigrant just trying to create a Plan B in case I got deported. I wasn’t working a cushy-but-unfullfilling six-figure consulting job when I started on my project of lifestyle design. I quit my day job in 2015 – a few months before my blind date with the Venezuelan – and haven’t looked back.īut I came to all this from a different angle. Personally, I’ve spent more than a decade designing my life so I can earn passive income and escape from pointless drudgery. Digital nomadry, remote work and lifestyle design are all becoming surprisingly popular, at least among the white-collar office-job crowd.
#The pathless path series
In the article, and also his book The Pathless Path, Millerd describes how the whole idea of Lifestyle Design popularized by Tim Ferriss’ Four-Hour Work Week has, over the years, become much more mainstream – not as a series of life hacks one could use to avoid work, but as a questioning of the Default Path of college, career and retirement itself.Īnd it’s true. I recently read an article called The Great Contemplation by one Paul Millerd, a guy from Conneticut who quit his fancy corporate job to become a freelance consultant, travel the world, etc. I was, in other words, on the Pathless Path… and it felt a bit weird.


I was making good money, but secretly I felt like I might just be some unemployed couch potato who was enjoying a bit of temporary good luck. Now all I did was sit on my sofa all day, writing blog posts and making videos. I’d been a teacher for so long, it had basically become who I was. In fact, I was having a bit of an identity crisis as well.
#The pathless path how to
Now I just tell people I’m an author, but at that point I’d just retired from my day job, and wasn’t quite sure how to explain the whole thing.

I don’t remember what I said, but I think in those days my usual answer to the “what do you do” question was to give a long explanation of what SEO is and how I used it to funnel people into my email list, where they’d eventually buy one of my books or sign up for one of my online courses. She started the conversation like this: “Most people have very normal jobs. We sat at a corner table, Sandy and I, sizing each other up over nachos and margaritas. That’s why I’d picked this classy place for our first date. A common acquaintance had put us in touch, saying the girl – let’s call her Sandy – worked at the Venezuelan embassy. I waited a while, annoyed, and sipping on a Modelo.įinally, my date arrived. I’d selected the venue: a Mexican restaurant off Calle Serrano in Madrid.

The girl was Venezuelan, and (stereotypically) quite late for the occasion. Several years ago I went on a blind date. 0 The Pathless Path – or, why careers are mostly overrated, and what to do instead
