"Life is merely a fraction of a second. An infinitely small amount of time to fulfill our desires, our dreams, our passions." ~ Paul Gauguin
Photo by Quang Nguyen Vinh on Unsplash
I’m standing in my modest but dirt-cheap motel room in K’bang gazing wistfully out the window and watching the last rays of late June tropical sunlight slip gently behind the mountains on the edge of this sleepy little town between Quy Nhon and Pleiku.
It’s peaceful and cozy here.
Nobody speaks English.
There are no other Westerners or tourists.
It’s just how I like it.
The town square outside my room is lit up like Christmas with twinkling lights from food carts, snow cone vendors, and makeshift toy shops. The playful laughter of children fills the air to the backdrop of Frosty the Snowman.
photo by the author
I stand at the bars in front of the window smoking cheap Vietnamese menthol cigarettes like a pale silhouette while letting my mind get lost in the wonder of being alive and being free and so far from home. Art Bell reruns are playing on my laptop in the background, his perfect radio voice droning on about UFO coverups or Shadow People.
Being here is nice. There is something so peaceful about a provincial town in rural Vietnam.
Big families.
Kids flying kites.
Low crime.
K’bang from the window. Photo by author
K’bang feels about as safe as my hometown in Michigan where you could leave your doors unlocked all night, or walk the shady lanes of a city park after dark without fear of getting mugged.
How did I find myself here?
It wasn’t my first time in Vietnam but why now?
It happened on a whim.
A text from back home
My phone pings — a text. “Are you coming to work today, it’s getting late.”
“Oh shit”, I thought, “I’m 10, 000 miles away, on the other side of the world”. I’ve got a nice girl by my side. I just had a $5 dinner for two at a sleepy little corner joint, with copious amounts of beer and conversation. I don’t want to think about work. I’m thinking about sex and sleep.
“Uh, I don’t know how to say this but..” I hesitate. “I’m not coming to work today.”
I kept it short and sweet. I had no mind to get dragged into some long convo. The time difference between here and there was 11 hours, and I was already used to Vietnam time.
“WHAT?”, came the message from the other side of the world.
You see, I didn’t ask permission. I just got burnt out with work and life, dropped everything, sold a bunch of crypto, and set off to rural Vietnam.
I made enough crypto money to swing it. The first half of the year was a whirlwind of activity with Ordinals. There was hardly time to sleep.
BRC20 tokens.
Bitcoin Frogs.
Bitcoin Punks.
Doginals.
Stamps.
A chaotic and exciting ride through the roughest parts of the crypto hinterlands. I felt like a washed-up cyber cowboy who was juggling a day job in between cattle rustling and carousing after midnight.
I knew the risks.
I could lose my job.
I did it anyway.
I figured jobs come and go. I work in healthcare. I’ve been a good employee. Those jobs are a dime a dozen.
My girl steps out of the shower and sees the worry chiseled into my face like some impassive statue as I’m standing staring at my phone like a 21st-century version of The Thinker by Rodin.
“Không có gì”, I said and left it at that.
A few minutes later we turned out the lights and loved each other the way that makes you feel alive. She fell asleep beside me, resting her head on my chest and I lay awake, having one of those moments where the universe seems to come together in perfect order, and where you don’t want to be anywhere else, with anyone else.
I’m the kind of guy that does things like this sometimes. I have an irresistible urge to dance on the edge and follow my own path because it makes me feel life coursing through my veins.
So many of us stay safe in our routines never really living, never taking chances on life, on ourselves.
That could never be me.
The rest of the month was a blur of peace joy and relaxation. I married my girl and chilled out in sleepy little K’bang and her village in the mountains and tried not to think about work. And it felt right and good the whole time.
My wife's front yard. Photo by author.
Whole days were spent squatting under the mango tree in her yard, drinking rice wine with the village girls giggling and gossiping amongst themselves in Vietnamese and Bahnar in the muddy yard, listening to Art Bell reruns or building brush fires on dark country roads and drinking beer over conversation under the stars.
The point of this is sometimes you have to step out of your comfort zone and do something crazy, to shake your life up, to get out of your rut.
Had I played it safe I would have never experienced any of this beautiful adventure. That’s what life is, an adventure. It comes and goes so quickly, so don’t hesitate.
I can say without a hint of regret that doing something so out of the ordinary was exactly what I needed. I’m still refreshed from my trip.
Get out of your comfort zone.
Do something a little crazy.
I promise you that you won’t regret it.
I bet you’re wondering, did I get fired?
Somehow I kept my job, but the next time wanderlust comes calling I might not be so lucky.
Thanks for reading.
