I was on the sofa when I asked it. Half a question, really.
“What if… you sold the house?”
And then, almost in the same breath: “Oh, never mind. Probably not a good idea. You won’t earn more by selling it.”
I let it go. He didn’t.
He kept thinking about it. A few days later he came back with what he’d found: what would actually happen if we sold, and what options we’d have after. And the options were not what I expected. Travel. A village somewhere far from the crowds, with land. Growing flowers, growing food. Living inside nature instead of next to it. Meeting animals. Exploring this planet while we’re on it.
I would love that. All of it.
But what struck me wasn’t the options. It was the question itself. It felt like a question we needed. One that gives good data back. Something in me has been saying I need to change something, and this question was helping me find out what.
The flip in my stomach
When I imagine it, my stomach flips. The idea of change. It’s exciting and frightening at the same time. Leaving the house, leaving the routine we built, for something new and unknown.
But here’s what I noticed. When I compared the new picture with my now, my now looked a little gray.
And I think that’s the signal. If the new thing brings you joy, and your current life looks gray next to it, maybe you need to change the things you’re not happy with. Not everything. Not everyone can change everything they want in their life. But if we try, if we honestly re-evaluate where we are, we can find the things we can change. And we can see, emotionally, where we really stand.
The picture
When I close my eyes on that question, this is what I see: green nature, blue sky, sea, water, air. Freedom. An open road I can choose and ride. A clear path to pick what I want.
That picture did something useful. It made me look at my actual plan for this year and ask: am I okay with this?
The honest answer
This year I was focused on finding a job. A good office job. It’s been very difficult, and no luck. Freelancing is going better, but it’s so hard, and it needs funding and time to grow.
I was trying to do everything at once. Job hunting, freelancing, building, hoping.
And I think the question showed me why the other steps weren’t working. There’s a step before them that I kept skipping. Education. I’d thought about it before, of course. But I always put it after the other things, as if I’d get to it once everything else was sorted.
Now I think it goes first. I need to say, out loud: I need help, and I need to give two years to learning. That’s a new door opening. It’s not the boat or the village. But it might be the road that leads there.
The next question
So one question on the sofa turned into a whole re-evaluation. Where are we now? Do we like it here? What do we do every day, and did we choose it?
I don’t have all the answers. But I feel hopeful holding the questions. That’s new for me, and I’m keeping it.
And now the next question, the harder one:
Study what?
I’ll let you know when I find out.
Your turn
Before you go, try it. Sit on your own sofa and ask yourself: where are you in your life right now? Not where you planned to be. Where you actually are.
And then ask the half-question. The one you usually stop yourself from finishing.
What if I…
See what comes back.