MikeyOpp.com

Recently, I’ve been approached by several friends and loved ones asking me why I’ve failed to write a column for quite some time now. Unfortunately, the answer isn’t very short, nor succinct (Get it? They’re the same thing), so I’ve decided to compound the yield on the irony of my current writing hiatus situation, by explaining my failure to write a column in the form of a column. Yeah, go figure, I’m just that darn clever (or is the appropriate word insane?).

Almost one year ago, to the day, In September of 2006, many of you may remember reading my column entitled “Getting Laid…Off. (STBY 25)” If you didn’t read it, the gist of the column was that I had been layed off from my favorite job ever, because the restaurant was in a financial crisis and could no longer afford to stay open. In that column, I vowed that this loss of a job was an omen, telling me to chase my dream, and to become a professional writer. In typical Mike Oppenheim Sweeping Grandiose Generalisation Statement Fashion (Trademark), I further wrote that: “I would never set foot back in the service industry.”

Well, six days and one 200 page novel later, the restaurant found a way to reopen, and the owner, who also happens to be among my very best friends that I’ve ever made in my life, asked me to come back and work for him, and the response from my nervous-about-being-unemployed, tired, weary, and broke soul was that I was more than happy to accept his offer and resume working for him. So within six days of that patented, M.O.S.G.G. Statement, I had happily changed my mind, and to boot, I had added yet another “Mike is a giant hypocrite” footnote into the annals of my autobiography.

Now then, let’s flash forward to the summer of 2008. This summer, I’ve been enjoying the life of a semi-professional writer and traveler. I’ve been spending more money than I’ve been making all summer, until recently, but I’ve also been experiencing tremendously positive feedback from peers and professionals alike concerning my writing skills. With this boost in my self confidence, I’ve slowly been working up the nerve to finalize my dreams of working for myself, and by myself, in order to support the life style that I’ve always dreamed of (you know, being independently wealthy, and traveling the world with my beautiful wife from our house nestled in the northern basque region of Spain — the typical American Dream!)

Look, I’m twenty six years old, and I’m tired of working hard for a living. This probably sounds spoiled, moronic, and immature to many of you, but I know that a lot of people who think that this is true (and I mean a lot, not all…) are very different than me. Many of these people are capable of sustaining a lifestyle that sounds like hell to me; By this, I mean a life in which one works forty plus hours a week so that they can go out once or twice a week, and in return for all of their hard work, they are given one two week paid vacation a year, all the while having to schedule and pencil in appointments with their own families and friends for recrational and relaxation time. This life may be perfect and fulfilling for many people, and I’m sincerely happy for those who enjoy this life, but I’m not one to ignore my own intuitions, and I’m old enough to state with certainty that this sort of lifestyle will never make me happy. It’s just not the right life for me.

Each and every one of my idols growing up have one thing in common: at some point in their life, they quit their day jobs with no fall back plan, in order to pursue their true life passion — be it in music, writing, film making, or fighting the establishment — and after a series of failures, they each were ultimately successful, and I believe, this success brough them happiness as well.

The way I see things, in life, there are no rules. Everyone just grows up making decisions, or being indecisive, and these decisions, or the lack thereof, lead to opportunities and further decision trees that carry them like a raft along the river that is your life here on Earth. In any given moment, you always have the choice to take a chance, or to seek safety in a decision with very little risk. You can take that higher paying job in Omaha, Nebraska, even though you hate the Midwest, because the urge for further financial security is stronger than the urge to live hand to mouth in a place you actually like more.

Consequences follow both inaction and action, but deep down, in that place we refer to as our gut, I’m fairly sure that the following axiom is true: The more of a risk you take in any decision and action that you make, the more rapid and exciting the consequence to the initial action will be. If you disagree with me, chances are that you currently make more money than I do, but you also have a longer list of obligations, duties, and responsibilities to perform, each of which consume a great amount of your time and energy. Every acton has a consequence, and every security comes about from some sort of sacrifice. And it should be up to each and everyone of us to individually decide which sacrifices we are wiling to make in life. If you are not in control of your sacrifices, then in my mind, you fit into the Oxford English Dictionary’s definition of a slave.

In my current state of self assessment, I have recently acknowledged that I have more energy and zeal for life than I know what to do with. For nearly five years now, I have been throwing that energy into the food service industry, and then taking the remaining, left over energy, which isn’t all that great in quantity, and devoting it to my true passions, namely writing and music. Well, to finally be succinct; I’m tired of this lifestyle.

I don’t think that working in food service will ever lead to the consequence of my dreams coming true. I just don’t see how managing a great restaurant will ever lead to me moving into that house in Spain, and traveling the seven seas (or perhaps even discovering that elusive eighth sea!). And this means that I am currently making sacrifices that are not enabling the fruition of my dreams — so I’m slave to my own economic security, and I don’t want to write this chapter of my autobiography anymore.

So this summer, upon realizing that I had reached an impasse in my own life, I only needed to analyze the true risk in quitting my truly unique and fantastic job and trying to write professionally, for a living. Join me as I go over a quick checklist of both irrational and non-irrational risks that could be possible permutations from my decision to quit the greatest job I’ve ever had.Risk 1: Death from starvation. — Are you @!%ing kidding me? Even I am not so irrational in my fears to consider this as an evenly remotely possible conclusion to my latest decision. After all, I live in America, the home of the free and the brave; a country that charges its wealthy citizens money in order to give its less wealthy citizens stamps redeemable for food, a country that supplies its populace with shelters to sleep in, that also provide free meals, and, uh, furthermore, I, like, totally have a college degree, which, like, I figure, is worth at least a minimum wage job somewhere…I’m not going to starve to death.

Risk 2: Failure. — Okay, this is not only completely possible, but also highly likely, and an integral part of the path to success. You show me someone who got everything they ever wanted out of life, without trying several times at something and dealing with rejection and failure many times over, and I’ll introduce you to my magical pet monkey, Dido, who processes his food into thousands of one hundred dollar bills on the third Wednesday of every month, and who also has the ability to look into the future, and then whisper in my ear the results of any as-of-yet unplayed sporting event so that i can place bets on these events and make a killing with the sports books in Vegas. Dido? Dido…where’d you go, buddy?

Now, let’s review the potential rewards from my latest ‘irrational decision:’

Reward 1: Moderate Success — In this scenario, I eek out a manageable living equitable to my current status as a restaurant manager, only I do so by working for myself, and by myself, setting my own hours, and taking time off when I feel burnt out. This isn’t the life I dreamed of for myself, but it certainly sounds like a better step in the direction of my ultimate life goal: to be my own boss.

Reward 2: I live a life of passion that produces in my soul a wonderful sense of value and personal pride, which further instills me with greater joy and the necessary confidence to relax more and enjoy the gift of life given to me by my parents twenty six years ago. Furthermore, I happen to be rewarded financially for the fruits of my passion and labor, which enables me to do everything that I’ve ever wanted to do in this life, but have as of yet been unable to do due to the financial constrictions that a life of median income subjects me to. Oh yeah, and some beautiful Senorita who admires the poetic justice of it all, agrees to accompany me on my quest to explore and discover the beautiful nuances and miracles bestowed upon this beautiful planet (Donde Estas, mi amour?).

I live in Portland, “The City of Roses”, and I find it more sad than ironic that lately, I’ve come to realize that I’ve been so busy obsessing over my inability to follow my passions, that I haven’t had any time to literally stop and smell the roses. My decision to quit my job and pursue the life of a writer has actually done something amazing for me already, and my first day of my new job hasn’t even happened yet! What has this decision done? It’s enabled me to relax and to think more clearly and to appreciate the beauty of life. Now, instead of watching Netflix movies late into the night, I’ve been keeping myself busy by thinking, writing, and reading books that fill my heart and mind with an astounding supply of energy and happiness. I’ve been going out with friends and instead of checking my cell phone clock to see when I should be going home, in order to get enough sleep to wake up well rested for work, I’ve been leaving the phone in my pocket and enjoying the moment for…uh, the moment. And isn’t that the whole point, the meaning of life?

I have a very close friend who, whether he realizes it or not, by his mere presence, he pushes me, on a daily basis, to rethink and revalue my goals and my own happiness. And he does this because he has an insanely intelligent ability that I was not born with. He was born with the cursed gift of a sheer intellectual approach in examining the world and then dissecting the good and the bad in an attempt to carve his own niche, and after years of friendship, this approach has rubbed off on me, and so I’ve decided to up the ante with him.

I’ve examined the evidence, and I’ve decided that after years of personal struggles, I’m standing on one side of a large chasm at the top of a mountain. Across from me, on the other side of the chasm, is a beautiful pasture where all my dreams come true. And in the chasm below me is a lake that I used to happily swim in as a child, before i noticed the trail to the top of the mountain, which faces the pasture of ‘my dreams come true.’ Swimming in the lake has become boring, and I want more. But it’s not just that I want more — I can finally see that there is more, and I can see the only way to achieve my dreams. The bad news is that in order to get to the pasture, I have to take a giant leap of faith, and the faith is in myself — not in a god or anyone else. But the good news is two fold: First, The lake is just deep enough that if I fall into it, because I don’t successfully make the leap to the pasture, I know I won’t die, I’ll just have to swim back to the shore, and then re-hike all the way back up to the top of the cliff. But if I take a chance, and jump off the cliff, and try to jump out far enough, to reach the other side of the chasm, what awaits me is the fruition of my dreams come true, and I’m finally willing and able to make this leap. I have a funny feeling that I’m going to be thanking God a lot for the fact that I know how to swim (and that i’m teaching myself Spanish)!