A call to arms (sort of)

At 43, the tingling sensation of what’s the point of all this? is getting louder. The career I’ve built is in full view. Parents are reaching that age. Friends are dying, getting sick, or getting divorced.

When I think about these next few decades—and I’m sharing this because I hope I’m not alone—I think the real win in life is living within walking distance of the people you care about. Friends. Family. Even the odd acquaintance who makes you laugh at the right time.

And yet—we all move away. Guilty as charged. We chase careers, schools, weather, opportunities, change… but what probably matters most is connection. The real kind. The kind you feel during a guys’ weekend, girls’ weekend, cousins’ weekend, friends’ weekend. That moment when it all clicks and you think, this is it.

If an asteroid were about to hit Earth, who would you want to be with—and what would you be doing?

My answer: eating, drinking, laughing—with the people I love.

The closest I ever got to that was living in downtown Seattle. Second closest, Arizona. I’ve lived and traveled through small-town Maine, Manhattan, the South of France—all places with charm and community. But often missing that first layer of connection: your cousins, your uncles, aunts your childhood friends. Maybe your cat.

So here’s the real question: Where do we want to be?

That’s where it gets hard. Our careers, families, hobbies—they don’t align on a map. Our incomes and preferences don’t line up either. We live in everything from gated communities to walk-up condos to suburban cul-de-sacs. No one wants to downgrade. Some can’t upgrade. Some of us want sunshine, others want four seasons. Some want hiking trails, others just want a garage, a beer, and a cigarette. (You know who you are.)

So where’s this magical place?

Right now… I don’t know. I’m out here exploring. For me. For us. And when I find it, I’ll report back.

Until then—
Are you in?