Good things come in small packages.

All my life I’ve looked forward to a future me.  An old, silver haired lady on a wooden boat, sailing the Gulf of Maine, poking my head into any harbor or inlet I please. Confident, happy on my own or with a companion, ready to fix this and that when a line broke free or the engine failed. I would be respected by a small group of friends, own a rock solid wool sweater, be financially sound, and still take a consulting gig or two on the side when it suited my interests. I’d have a month long recurring Air B&B reservation in Paris’ Le Marais neighborhood to visit my “acquaintances” and catch up on the best new theater and art exhibits.

I didn’t know how I thought I would get there, other than it would take many, many years of dogged persistence and for lack of a better term – luck. I’d have to land this or that job, my money, career, family and love life would all have to fall together at the exact right moment.

At age 30, facing $100k in student loan debt and a lifetime of being tied to financial commitment, I decided to cast off. Literally. I’d still go to the same job, have the same friends, and be, well.. me. But I would refuse to half-act out what I thought I SHOULD be doing to get to my goal. I wouldn’t sign another apartment lease until I really wanted to put down roots – until I knew where I actually WANTED to live.  Until that time, I’d save half my income or more, blast away my debt and purchase a dilapidated old sailboat.. and I would embrace doing everything I could to stop waiting and become the old lady I envisioned, one day at a time.

Here’s hoping that it doesn’t take quite that long.