I can do anything. Now what?
When there’s no one to tell you what to do—and no one to blame.
Everyone keeps asking if I’m okay. Like I must be falling apart.
I get it. On paper, I lost my job.
And for most people, that = bad.
But the truth is: nothing feels worse than staying somewhere you know you don’t belong.
And now that I’m out?
I’ve never felt more free.
Quiet, spacious, delicious freedom.
No boss. No stress. No back-to-back meetings.
Just time. A calm nervous system. And the luxury to build whatever I want.
For the first time in years, I can hear myself again.
But of course, it’s not all unicorns and buttered toast.
As Julia Cameron writes in The Artist’s Way:
“As with any rupture, there is both tension and relief.”
Some mornings, I feel light and luxurious.
Drinking my matcha on the balcony. Reading. Writing. Making fun videos.
Living my best life.
Other days, the pressure creeps in.
To figure it out. To be productive. To “have a plan.”
My dad texts: “How are you? What’s your plan? What’s next?”
And I can feel the worry bleeding through the screen.
Sometimes, I absorb it.
Because we’re not taught to take our sweet time.
We’re not taught to listen inward.
We’re taught to follow the syllabus. Meet expectations. Get the gold star. Wait for the green light.
So when the structure disappears, freedom can feel terrifying.
I could do anything.
So what should I do?
The questions got louder.
So I did what I always used to do: I asked around. Collected input. Tried to crowdsource clarity.
Should I go back to full-time work or finally build my own thing?
Substack or tiktok? Or both??
What’s my thing???
But the more I asked, the more confused I got.
Until this other quote slapped me in the face:
“Take your life in your own hands and what happens?
A terrible thing: no one to blame.”
— Erica Jong
That’s it.
I wasn’t lost.
I just hadn’t truly taken my life in my own hands in a very long time.
What I’ve been experiencing is exactly what The Artist’s Way (yes, I’m deep in this book) describes:
“A sense of both bafflement and faith. You are no longer stuck—but you cannot tell where you are going. You may long for the time when there was no sense of possibility, when you felt more victimized, when you didn't realize how many small things you could do to improve your own life.”
That hit hard. Because it’s so true.
I don’t want to go back.
But sometimes, I miss the certainty that came with stuckness.
It’s wild how much safety there is in a bad fit, just because it’s familiar.
It’s easier when someone else makes the decisions.
When you can blame the job, the boss, the market.
But now?
It’s just me.
No one to tell me what to do. No one to blame.
It’s like I’m installing a whole new operating system—one where I am responsible for my own joy. For real.
I thought I needed to find “my thing” quickly.
But why?
So my dad can stop worrying?
So I look “on track” to everyone else?
If I rush into the wrong thing just to feel safe, I’m not being brave—
I’m just outsourcing my peace again.
So I come back to myself.
To the quiet knowing that I don’t have to rush.
That I’m not confused—I’m expanding.
When nothing is certain, everything is possible.
And that’s not a problem to fix.
That’s a rare and sacred gift.
How often do we get a permission slip to rebuild—and rebrand—our lives?
What I really needed wasn’t a perfect plan.
It was permission.
To try. To explore. To follow what calls to me.
As Neville Goddard said:
“You are not one fixed self—you’re a thousand possible versions of you, waiting to be expressed.”
So that’s what I’m giving myself.
Permission.
To take my sweet time.
To write things. Try things.
Even the cringe things.
Especially the cringe things.
Last night, I saw a reel by @inspiredtowrite talking about how, in a world of AI and automation, our mess is becoming a precious commodity:
And I can’t agree more.
Our mess is what makes us human.
It’s what makes us real.
It’s what makes life fun.
That’s what I’m doing now.
Embracing my mess.
Letting the next version of me arrive in motion.
Anyone want to join me?
Big love,
Joei
P.S. If anything in this post resonated with you—hit reply or leave a comment. We reached 101 subscribers 😂 but I still read every single one.
I relate to this so much.
Starting a PhD came with a lot of questions and people thinking I should do the typical 9-5 route. Now being in it, I'm glad I'm here and there's still a lot of ambiguity on what my PhD will become and whether I'll stay in academia, but I love that.
I get to explore life as it is without setting strict deadlines on how it should go. This time where you're not tied to something strictly is so good for discovering yourself and often times you find that you attached so much of your identity to your main gig that you don't know who you are outside of it.
All these gigs are great, but you exist outside of them. Pursuing creativity and building something of substance can't rely so much on these full-time gigs, but rather who you are outside of them and what you gravitate towards when you aren't on the clock. That's where the cool things happen.
Thanks Joei, while I am losing track on finding myself a new job in the middle of a job that I dun really like (but can make my ends meet). Countless rejections & self-doubt, seeing this literally made me feel better - we are all in some turbulence, but it will only matter if we succumb to it, I am not going to give in, at least not for now. Thank you for the kind words !