What Next?
Twenty-five years ago, I was “successful.”
I was only in my 20’s, but I had climbed the corporate ladder - from managing people to products and eventually special projects for the COO of a rising technology company. I made great money, but I had no life. No time. I was exhausted. Depleted. Something I’ve come to call ‘bad tired’ - a weariness that a bubble bath or a vacation couldn’t touch. I knew I wanted more for my life than a ‘success’ that felt empty and sucked the life out of me.
So, I decided to ‘burn it all down.’
I left my job, packed up my possessions into the back of my SUV and drove across country to begin full time graduate studies at Princeton Theological Seminary. It was a breadcrumb, and I was following it.
The Search for “What’s Next”
That breadcrumb led to a fellowship in St. Andrews, Scotland, studying at the Institute for Imagination, Theology, and the Arts. It led to traveling Europe and forming a deep community. But even that year came to an end.
My dad’s cancer diagnosis had worsened, so once again I packed it all up, and flew back to California to be with my parents in his final weeks. I was still ‘waiting for a call’ - that Presbyterian lingo for one who has checked off all the boxes, but still doesn’t have a ‘job.’
One day, while sitting on a bench on Balboa Island journaling about what was “next,” I looked up and saw the stern of a boat come into view. The boat’s name? Freelance. That sign began a career in writing and photography that has taken me literally around the world…
…from the remote bush in Africa to the top of the Taipei 101.
…to hearing sermons in Spanish in Cuba and meeting Christians in the Middle East who could trace their lineage back to the original disciples.
…bartering for elaborately woven rugs in the market in Istanbul and riding in Tuk Tuks in Bangkok.
…seeing the pyramids of Egypt - twice in one year.
Finding Home (and a Deep Seat)
During all of that, a puppy named Tigger wiggled onto my patio in Baja at sunset and made La Mision my home base. I was still traveling the world, but in between I was also walking my new puppy along the trails of the estuary. One one of those walks we came upon Luna, the horse, emaciated and tied up where there was no food to graze, no water to drink. One thing led to another and Luna became my first horse - of many, it turned out.
My life in Baja led to my ordination as a “Tentmaking Evangelist” (the same designation held by Mr. Rogers). I led a spiritual-but-not-religious community that landed on the cover of TIME magazine. I started a small business leading horseback tours on the stunning Playa La Misión to employ local youth and help others live their “bucket list” dreams.
My life was nothing like the corporate life I had left in my 20s. And yet... I began to feel a familiar feeling. It felt an awful lot like the exhaustion that had led me to “burn it all down” in the first place.
Here is the truth I learned the hard way: You can change the scenery, but if you don’t change your self, the “Hurry Within” will follow you every single time.
The Moment the Scenery Wasn’t Enough
It hit me while I was riding my horse, Alegria, along the beach at sunset. I was leading a group on their dream vacation. The sky was a perfect mix of pinks, reds, and blue.
Here we were, in the “destination.” And yet, as the waves hit the shore, my mind was miles away, running through a list that felt more like my corporate days than a sunset ride. I was in paradise, and I was still exhausted.
I realized then that I hadn’t actually changed; I had just changed the scenery.
The last time this happened, I had “burned it all down.” But this time? I actually liked my life. My horses and my fruit trees weren’t portable—plus, I had sold the SUV years ago.
I’ve spent the past few years figuring out how to make a change without burning it all down. Not by moving again, but by finding what horsemanship calls a “Deep Seat.” It’s a grounded, centered connection that keeps you from being thrown when the trail gets rough.
The Anatomy of the “Hurry Within”
The biggest mistake we make is thinking that fulfillment is just one more “change” away—the next job, the next house, the next hobby.
But the reality is, the more you try to outrun the hurry, the more stuck you stay. It’s like a truck spinning its wheels in the mud—the spinning only digs you in deeper.
I’ve come to realize: Stillness isn’t a location; it’s a practice.
Time in the Saddle
Getting unstuck isn’t an overnight fix. As with riding, it’s about “time in the saddle.” But the more you practice finding your Deep Seat, the more you gain the confidence to eventually gallop.
It took me over two decades to figure this out. Following breadcrumbs. Finding myself a world away, but right back where I had started.
In that journey I have picked up a set of practices along the way - practices that you can learn. The last thing anyone needs in today’s world is more on their list of things to do. That is why I have looked for a way to share these practices with you that is bite-sized, breadcrumbs, morsels - so that they are an invitation rather than an obligation.
If you have found yourself on a similar path, I’d love to have you join me in this journey. I write about it regularly on my Substack. I am also starting something I’m calling The Return - a 10 week guided practice (in just 15 minutes a day) starting on April 5th.
Join my free Substack: Get weekly “breadcrumbs” for the journey home
Join “The Return” – My 10-week guided practice starting April 5th
Erin
