If you don't do things because of this...

...it might be time to rethink your priorities

I’ve heard the same thing over and over during the years, but it didn’t really hit home until we were on the Bibbulmun Track in 2022.

The four of us (myself, husband, two of our five teens) decided to do this 1006km thru-hike through Western Australia. This meant moving out of our rental and driving over 3000kms across the country for the privilege of walking an average of 22kms per day with everything we needed for up to 10 days at a time on our backs.

Plus being dirty, smelly, and aching all over, and eating oats with milk powder for three meals a day.

We all have different ideas of fun, OK?

Sometimes we got fancy and had peanut butter with honey. Rex is ready to throttle me if I eat into his share.

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Less than a week in we reached a busy campsite. It had a quiet-ish party vibe (walking 20+kms a day with a pack will quieten anyone) but the mood was fun and light-hearted. We got talking to people around the campfire, and I met Shaun, who was on the very last night of his section hike, which is where you do the entire track in sections over time, rather than all at once.

He was in his 40s and it had taken him seven years.

Him: ‘It’s great to finally be finishing! I’d love to do it all at once, like you are.’

Me: ‘Why don’t you then?’

Him: ‘Oh, my boss would never let me have that much time off work. It’s been hard enough getting off a few days here and there to do this!’

A few moments pass as I try to process this statement. It feels the same as hearing something from a conspiracy theorist, and trying to reconcile exactly where it fits in - it’s not immediately obvious because it’s just such an outrageous statement.

Him: ‘So…how did you two get so much time off work?’

Me: ‘We quit.’

Yeah, the silence was awkward.

And over the following weeks as we slowly trudged south, I met a handful of section hikers who said exactly the same thing.

‘My boss won’t let me have that much time off work’.

Who would wistfully say that maybe one day they would be able to ‘find the time’ to do the entire track all at once, instead of in disjointed sections of a few days here and there spread across years.

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I don’t think any of these people were using it a cover-up excuse. I think it was really their reason. They really couldn’t have 5-8 weeks off work all at once - their bosses simply said no.

But I can’t quite comprehend accepting that. Believing it’s a perfectly fine reason for not doing something that I want to do.

Yet obviously people accept it, and I wonder why.

• Do they like to believe they’re indispensable?

• That the place would fall apart without them?

• Are they too scared to challenge the boss?

• Do they love their jobs so much they would rather compromise on their life than risk losing their position?

• Are they scared that if they quit they’d never get another job, or be forced to take a crappy one?

• Are they carrying so much debt they need to protect their income at any cost?

I don’t understand. And it’s not the sort of philosophical discussion I felt I could have with a stranger in the middle of the bush.

I mean, I’m really good at asking strangers awkward and possibly offensive questions, but I managed to restrain myself this time.

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I understand that work requires committing to time and place. But I don’t understand why anyone couldn’t have the time off if they organised it ahead of time.

Our employers don’t own us. They pay us for the work we do and the hours we agree to work. That’s it.

Our time is our only truly finite resource. No-one can pay me enough to make me put off the things I want to do for years at a time, until they disappear into a pile of regrets because I’m physically unable to do them ever again.

Maybe I’m more aware of this because I’m about to turn 40. And even though I still feel pretty capable I know that my days of thru-hiking and running marathons and taking on other physical challenges may be quite limited.

Many people I know have chronic health conditions, or other issues that rule out many options. Nursing ensures we meet people who are full of regrets because they kept putting things off, and now they’re looking forward to a much smaller life than they’d pictured.

A few people I knew are now dead, which put a very definite full-stop on their plans, and often their family’s plans too.

So I have a feeling of urgency. I need to do these things while I’m still able, because the day will come when I’m not able, and it might be much sooner than I think.

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Geez, that got dark.

But I consider it my memento mori, my reminder that I’m mortal and so I need to pull my finger out and make the most of my limited time here.

And that bosses might not have a same goals as I do.
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P.S. Possible employer of mine, if you’re reading this after a nosey pre-employment Google then please know that yes, there is a good chance I will quit because I would rather spend weeks hiking through the bush smelling like someone who died days ago than do a regular job.

The precedent has definitely been set.

P.S. I did get end up getting a surprise apple (birthday cake) with a match in it (candle) for my Bibbulmun birthday, and everyone in the hut sang happy birthday. Even though I was dirty, smelly, wet, and cold, it was outstanding, and far better than a fancy restaurant where I would use the wrong spoon for everything.

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