Chapter 1: A Moment of Reflection

It's a bit strange to find myself writing this. As someone who frequently discusses self-improvement, it may seem like I have everything under control, though that's never my intention. At this point in my life, at age 39, I find myself at a peculiar crossroads. Many of my friends are entrenched in family life, career commitments, and an endless stream of responsibilities.

While my life is fulfilling—I cherish my relationship and enjoy my work—there remains an unsettling emptiness that feels unfillable.

This feeling might have been unavoidable. After dedicating seven years to writing, I transitioned to this career full-time after leaving my finance job in the Fall of 2019. Writing had previously been my creative escape, a source of joy that helped me cope with the monotony of corporate life, where I often felt stifled in my expressions and actions.

Transitioning to a full-time writer didn't erase my passion; it merely altered the dynamic. Writing became a job, complete with its own frustrations and challenges, but my love for it remains intact.

Post-corporate life brought a liberating sense of freedom—no rigid schedules or email chains—but I quickly learned that such freedom, while exciting, is something to manage carefully. My days fell into a rhythm that felt almost monastic, yet tailored to my preferences. I would rise, exercise, enjoy a smoothie, tidy up, and dive into my writing sessions.

Each day consisted of concentrated writing bursts interspersed with activities to stave off boredom. In the evenings, I spent quality time with Laura, leading a typical couple's life with dinners out and leisurely walks, trying to balance activity with relaxation.

However, over the past six to twelve months, I began to feel a growing restlessness. I couldn't pinpoint when it started, but it was becoming increasingly evident that something needed to change. To shake things up, I began teaching writing to a small group, which turned out to be a rewarding experience filled with surprises. Yet, it still didn't quite satisfy the nagging feeling inside.

Until recently, I kept this restlessness largely to myself. When I finally shared my feelings with Laura, she understandably worried it might be related to our relationship. After discussing it, we both agreed that I should take up a new hobby, as I had always enjoyed exploring different interests.

During my younger years, I was an avid gamer, so I decided to purchase a new graphics card and a game I knew I would enjoy. However, I worried I might lose myself in gaming once again, as I tend to dive deep into my passions.

Sure enough, every time I sat down to write, the game’s icon seemed to beckon me. What began as a quick gaming session often turned into hours lost. As I struggled to write, I felt frustrated and disappointed in myself for wasting precious time. Within just five days of acquiring the game, I clocked in 12 hours, with my daily gaming time escalating rapidly.

This obsession began to encroach upon my time with Laura and consumed my mental space. I found myself lying awake, strategizing for the game instead of focusing on my writing. I remembered similar experiences from my past with games like Call of Duty and League of Legends, where I ultimately had to confront the reality of wasting hours that could have been spent more meaningfully.

Reflecting on my future, I recognized that I would regret allowing gaming to dominate my time. I had been down this path before; some chapters of life need to close for new ones to emerge. Consequently, I made the decision to step back from gaming.

While frustrating, I often questioned myself in quieter moments: “Am I really unable to enjoy something without going overboard?” It felt akin to someone realizing they struggle with relationships after numerous chaotic experiences, ultimately concluding, “Maybe I’m the issue here.”

Additionally, I faced the practical challenge of blending my passion with my work environment. With just a click, I could switch from writing to gaming, and without any oversight on my time or internet usage, the temptation was ever-present.

Laura offered an insightful analogy; as a horse enthusiast, she remarked, “If my work computer was in a stable, I wouldn’t get any work done.” This rang true—it was unhealthy to have my hobby and job coexist in such close quarters, exacerbating my restlessness.

At 39, I find myself in a position where I write, exercise, and share my life with Laura. I have much to be grateful for: my health, a stable home, financial security, and a loving relationship. Yet, I sometimes wonder how I can feel bored or restless when I have so much going for me.

Writing has taught me that understanding what to write often involves knowing what not to write. Over time, I’ve learned to navigate the complexities of my creative process, and perhaps this insight can lead me to a solution.

I recognized that gaming was a dead-end in my journey, so I returned the $1000 graphics card, accepting a $200 restocking fee without regret. I already feel lighter and more liberated.

Nevertheless, I still face the challenge of finding a fulfilling activity. I'm not interested in turning to drinking, partying, or gambling, nor do I want to revisit photography. Recently, I considered blacksmithing as a hands-on, gritty alternative.

Perhaps I need to cultivate more social connections, but my introverted nature recoils at the thought. Sometimes, life presents you with a question mark, and it’s up to you to not only find the answer but to decipher what the original question was.

Though I feel somewhat lost, I’m okay with it. For now, I will continue my search and will keep you updated as I navigate through this maze.

Subscribe to my newsletter for more free content.

Read every story from Sean Kernan (and thousands of other writers on Medium). Your membership fee directly supports…