What is Remote Year? My Very Lengthy Elevator Speech.
Okay more like long-winded, disassociated novel.
I’ve tried tackling this question with a variety of responses, but none seem to make the impression that matches my intention. So, I’m going to TRY to answer your open-ended, superfluous questions.
“What the hell is Remote Year?”
Borrowing from the official website, “Remote Year brings together 50-80 inspiring professionals, freelancers, entrepreneurs, and adventurers to see the world as they never have before during an unforgettable year of personal and professional growth. Participants (called “Remotes”) live and work in a different city around the globe each month for a year.”
Let me tell you, this description doesn’t even begin to capture the journey we are all going through. It is so hard to explain, yet it is everything that I imagined (and more). Remote Year is life, yet it is life transplanted with a new group of people (smart, driven, funny, goofy….and you’ll have a few that you don’t connect with). Yes, you travel the world with this group and have Level 3 fun at times (inside joke). But most of all, the goal is for all of us to push one another, foster one another’s individuality, and understand our limitations. That is the Remote Year I envision. But hey, I am only in Month 1. Ask me next week.
“So, you’re taking a year off from work? Sounds fun”
Absolutely no. I am not looking to escape reality and just travel. Though living in twelve different non-US cities in a year is attractive, I am really drawn to the business network and community service aspect of this year. We, as remotes are looking to not abandon, but yet expand our careers and become more innovative and collaborative. We may join forces with individuals who might fill a gap in our new business venture. We might learn new skill-sets through Remote driven workshops and knowledge drops. We meet regularly to network and help one another out with resources, tools, and advice from other remote experts. We are essentially a microcosm of minds and are working in an office space with people who don’t mirror our own skill-sets but offer something better, diversity. We bounce ideas off one another, and we aren’t in competition but highly supportive of other remote’s success. In plain context: “We WORK, WORK, WORK, WORK, WORK, WORK…”
“How are you actually working?”
Um. It’s called a computer. Need I say more? Skype. Zoom. WhatsApp. Slack. Google. New Apps. TECHNOLOGY? You think going to an office is necessary when you can essentially feel somebody breathing on you in a video conference? Some of us our employed by a big forward thinking company; some of us are freelancing because our big company wasn’t so forward thinking; and some of us have our own companies. We all make it work.
“Do you miss home?”
Of course. But, it’s only a year. Your friends and family will be there when you get back. And, the time goes by so quickly. Also, for some of us that are lucky, we get some visitors along the way.
“Is it hard traveling and finding time to work?”
Yes. But isn’t it that way when you’re leading an extraordinary life? You just have to be disciplined and learn to accept the constant FOMO that sweeps by every time you ignore Slack for 30 minutes and find out a “side trip” was planned without you. First come, first serve. For those of you who are Slack virgins, it is a social networking tool used by many start-ups and Remote Year to help us communicate with our fellow remotes. The easiest way I can describe it is a Message Board, but way cooler. We can create new groups such as Kaizen – Weekenders, Kaizen – No-Context, Kaizen – Foodies, etc. We join groups based on our interests and communicate and organize events, knowledge sharing events, restaurant outings, festivals, vacations, (i.e. running with the bulls). We are essentially inundated with things to do, and well as I mentioned before, we all got to find some time to pay the bills.
“Backstory”
I applied to Remote Year, in its Inaugural Year, 2015. I got past the first round, and then didn’t follow through with the rest of the application process. I knew that with my current position I couldn’t swing working remotely for a year. And so, other than getting monthly emails from Remote Year, and following the first group along on their journey via their blogs, I turned my head and accepted defeat. That world, was not going to be My world. I would just carry-on like everyone else and live the life expected.
A year later, a friend of mine, Aaron, had a going away party in Los Angeles to embark on, yep… Remote Year. As I saw this program becoming a reality for a friend, the concept became all the more enticing. As Aaron traveled, I closely followed his social media to live vicariously through his own journey. And, let me just say his Instagram posts were on point. It made me envious. It made me motivated. And, well all of that scared me because I too wanted to flip the table (Real Housewives style) on my life.
Life has a funny way of falling apart, and then coming together again. In those times when we feel as though we’ve lost, there is something beautiful, funny, or brilliant that peeps through that closed door and wakes us up slowly or with a forced jolt. I was in a relationship; I had a career as a management consultant and made good money; I had smart and awesome friends; I thought I was happy. Then, life became an earthquake. Everything shook, dismantled, and fell apart. A heartbreak. A career that I longed to reinvent. A world that hadn’t seen my full potential.
An ad popped up on my Facebook feed, “Remote Year.” This time around I was determined to open that door and electrify my life with a challenge.
I decided to apply and got through the first round again. The second-round application included essay questions: Why do you want to do Remote Year? What can you contribute?
One day I decided to revisit the application and binge write a few essays and completed my second round. A few days later I had been accepted to the third-round interview, and a week later I was accepted into the program. I never wanted something more badly, and when I found out that I was accepted I literally called my friend sobbing, and he almost thought he had to call 911. I couldn’t even explain what had happened because I started hiccupping and it just got weird. Note to self. I am NOT a pretty crier.
I guess here is when I tell you that I learned a lesson that day: “Pretend to call people when crying, but don’t actually hit the dial button.”
Until next time……stay tuned for my next post on Remote Year in Faulkner Prose…It’s all stream of consciousness from here.