“For quick relief, try slowing down.” ~Lily Tomlin
“Are you the owner?” Well, another customer at our local Italian restaurant asked.
“No – I’m just old!” I replied, a little embarrassed, but happy.
It’s true. At fifty years old, I’m not your typical part-timer struggling through college.
In fact, I’m the oldest employee in our restaurant—the employee “mom,” if you will. I have been working in this service for three years and have never looked back. This may seem strange considering how I got here in the first place. What a contrast to the world I once lived in.
My father and I co-owned a financial services company for sixteen years. We’re making good progress. Our clients are well looked after – we’ve won awards and the money reflects that. At forty-five, I had it all: a well-rounded career, a decent marriage, two kids, and a nice house.
It would be disingenuous to say that this wasn’t enough for me. No, it’s more like too much.
I feel overwhelmed by the life I helped build.
I was stuck on the “keep it all together” treadmill, running faster and faster each year, terrified that I would be ejected from the back end in a spectacular “Sam” crash. I longed to slow down and examine my choices, my reality, and myself. The pace is killing me. Whoever “I” am, I will become.
Can’t I just walk for a while?
In May 2019, I did a 33-day run on the Camino de Santiago in Spain. I walked in with a bunch of cynicism and confusion, but walked out confidently with a very bold answer in hand:
“Give up your career.”
Contextually, this drives me crazy. I had crossed a threshold, no matter how much money I made, because I was miserable. Investing for others has never felt like it did for me—the artsy “Sam” drowning in the pressure of a portfolio. Uncontrollable factors like market returns and regulation are built on the assumption that all financial advisors can screw up their clients, which keeps me on edge 24/7.
Looking back, I’m grateful for those years that never looked like me. Because they ultimately help shape a more authentic life. This is what I live for now. It’s a calmer, more meaningful existence. Even if I’m “just serving pasta.”
See, when you’re stuck on a treadmill and the universe keeps picking up its pace, you can only breathe, let alone hold any other desires in your mind.
You simply can’t do it. No time for that nonsense.
You have clients, deadlines, responsibilities, and goals. Your documents will be taken home with you. Your conversations with your loved ones revolve around the ridiculous headquarters struggles you have to face today just to keep up with the demands of your job.
Dream? Hum. That’s the dream… isn’t it?
Obviously, this is not my dream.
Fast forward to a world where, if the kitchen was backed up, I’d be out three or four nights a week doing a real (and well-received) tap dance. I collect the tip pool every Wednesday. I clock in and clock out. When I’m at home, I don’t think about work.
It was a far cry from my Sunday night anxiety, when I would lie in bed terrified about the fire I had to put out the next morning.
As a server, I am expected to provide care, kindness, humor and advice to visitors and newcomers to our area, as well as meals that are clearly prepared to their liking. It’s a well-curated experience that comes with a smile. A smile that can’t be faked.
It’s legal to smile because I’m happy. 🙂
But there’s something else at play here. Putting my foot off the gas—that is, making the difficult decision to slow down my life—gave me the time and space to dream.
I am (and always will be) “one of those”. I know, I know, I know; insert my realist eye roll in the audience. I’m a dreamer.
I believe our dreams matter.
How could they not? Why else would we be here, spinning on this huge rock? Are we destined to come into this world and then run like hell without a doubt until the day we die? I think, no.
Most of us have three problems with dreams: (1) they seem unrealistic, (2) they take courage to get started, and (3) they take time to germinate and take off.
The sad truth is that most of us are in survival mode, just trying to survive. We don’t have time to dream.
Dreams are a damn luxury! We have more urgent things to take care of, like mortgage payments and helping our elderly parents figure out their cell phone plans.
But I think that while survival mode is a reality today, abandoning our dreams is a slow march to the grave. We may still be alive, but we Really?
Sure, we can pinch ourselves, feel that pain, look at the world we’ve built and the treadmill we’re running on, and keep it going. Of course we are still alive. We have the tax returns to prove it!
But what about inside? Our souls may be just one breath away from lights out. This is what happens when we ignore the whispers it quietly sends to us, succumbing to one of our great failings as humans: we settle.
Ug,solve.
Some may think I’ve “settled” by choosing to give up a lucrative career and work part-time as a waitress.
Quite the opposite is true.
If I could have stayed the course in my previous career, I would have settled down. I could be dead now. This may sound dramatic to you, but I was on the verge of a breakdown at least every season. I just thought it was something I had to live with.
It was only when my dreams came to me loud and unafraid that I realized what I had to do. Thanks to the meanderings of the Camino, all those “shoulds”, “musts” and social expectations that were occupying my head space disappeared, making fertile ground for my dreams. Essentially, my dreams became louder than my pain.
But I think I’m crazy. Who would leave safety and travel to places unknown?
A madman would. At least, that’s what I thought. You can’t blame me for my twisted thinking either; remember, I’ve been running at breakneck speeds for years.
I need to go much slower to see things clearly. See things first hand.
Today, chasing your dreams is undoubtedly accompanied by feelings of frustration, exhaustion, and disillusionment.
I use my hiking in Spain as inspiration to help other women try to slow down so they too can solve their own problems and find themselves. This all sounds good in theory. But anyone who has ever started a business will tell you that this is usually a lesson learned from failure.
(And then, with every lesson you learn, you swallow your pride — like, who would buy 2,000 custom “thank you” bracelets for a company that hasn’t put out anything to thank someone yet?! Yeah, that’s me Do it this way!
But I knew that if this dream of mine was important, I had to continue to find the money, motivation, and stamina to invest in it. These are my issues, but I’m dealing with them and excited to see the wins come.
What’s important here—and this is part of what I say to myself when I’m frustrated—is that I’m not losing sight of what’s important to me.
I’m not going to knock it down, beat it into submission, or fool myself into thinking it never existed in the first place.
If slowing down is key – then how to slow down?
My answer doesn’t sound like rocket science or an earth-shattering discovery. It’s simple: get out and take a walk.
I will forever embrace the slow art of moving my body, one foot in front of the other, on the concrete sidewalks of the urban jungle or the mossy loam of the backyard forest. Walking is the answer. If we can get off the treadmill for twenty to thirty minutes a day, we’ll start to see a transformation.
Stress levels are reduced, and this is scientifically documented.
With less cortisol, the nasty stress hormone coursing through our veins, we feel better without even trying. You show me a person who’s in a bad mood after a walk, and I’ll show you the millions in my bank account. (ha! There is no such thing!
Over the years, walking has been a long tradition of solving problems, inspiring creativity, and chasing dreams. Beethoven would set off on long walks with pen and paper in hand, ready to capture the melodies that came to him.
So, I’m not saying go out and resign. I’m just saying, get out and move. This brings me to my next point.
The importance of conscious decision-making
Pursuing a life without regrets requires taking decision-making to the next level.
If that means tightening my purse strings while I work on my dream, or relying on my husband to carry most of the financial torch, or going out and finding a service job to help relieve stress – so be it . I made these choices of my own free will and was blessed with the support of people who believed in me.
“Conscious” decision-making requires us to weigh our options and consider others in the consequences of our choices. How will my desire to pursue this dream affect my loved ones? What do I need to consider? What are my weaknesses?
those who are watching
A byproduct of pursuing a dream is the message it sends to those who follow it. As far as I’m concerned, we want our two daughters to know that their dreams matter. If I had never left my career, I would have completely sold myself out. As our parents always say, “Your dreams are important,” otherwise it will feel like a pot of tasteless porridge. At least for us.
Over the past four years, I’ve seen how my tenacity (read: head-butting, dogged persistence) has inspired my children.
My oldest son will reach for the stars with the highest of expectations. While I was daunted by the fact that she didn’t get accepted into the most competitive college in North America, I secretly loved that she was trying.
Because why not photograph the stars? Her big picture certainly brings some level of disappointment, but it also fuels her courage. How good does it feel like those times when she swings hard and knocks a guy out of the park – because she took advantage of it in the first place?
Don’t aim to be a role model for success – aim to achieve your dreams, failures and everything
I judge myself harshly. Those panicked voice messages I sent my friend Caroline in the middle of the night were proof of that. Nothing happens quickly. Nothing is easy. Nothing is as we imagined.
But in the end, if we breathe life into our dreams, we have won. We don’t just go through the motions. We are in the arena, taking chances, learning lessons, failing forward, getting back up, and squeezing the juice out of every moment we want to feel.
I’ll make it more real for you.
Sometimes it feels like I’ve swapped one treadmill for another. It’s in those moments that I slowly step back from my laptop, tuck my feet into my hiking shoes, and hit the trail. When I feel overwhelmed and unclear, I walk away.
Living life at full tilt is exciting (and exhausting), but it’s not always what’s best for our souls. We need to slow down—even meander—so we can recognize when things are getting out of hand. As long as we take the time to put one foot in front of the other, our walk can even lead us to the realization of our dreams.
About Samantha Plavins
Sam Plavins is a Gen-X mom, wife, adventurer, author, and recovering oversharer. In 2019, while hiking 800 kilometers across northern Spain, she suddenly realized that her financial career was killing her. So she decided to take a new path and launch she walks Helping women like her live more authentic, inspired lives. She wants you to escape the constraints of society, or at least question it! You can find her at shewalksthewalk.com, Instagram, YouTube or her travel blog, and check out her podcast here.
