I am on a quest.
My quest started, I believe, the day I was born. When the forces that be put me on this planet, I think they had something pretty rad in mind. Till this day I'm not quite sure what it is, but my ability to imagine, design, manifest, and guide certain aspects of my life to channel a particular kind of energy - whether love, kindness, gratitude, joy, forgiveness, sorrow, or rage - has most certainly improved.
I am so grateful for the people in my life who have been real with me. The ones who call my bullshit and know when I'm not being honest with myself. I'm grateful for everyone who told me to listen to my gut, follow my intuition, and trust that things have a way of working themselves out. I am grateful for all of the personal development podcasts, books, and blog articles that instilled in me a greater control of my own mindset to open doors that I didn't even know existed.
"Purposes are deduced from behavior, not from rhetoric or stated goals" The quote is from the amazing Donella Meadows, a writer who is a well known environmental scientist, writer, and teacher. In an excerpt from her book Thinking in Systems: A Primer, she described the way systems function, which clearly resonated with me a year ago when I took the time to write it in my notebook. Now, skimming for the first blank page in the notebook as I begin to outline the goals for my own DIY writing retreat in Eau Claire, Wisconsin, for the weekend, I find it ever so relevant.
This quote reminds me of another one: "actions speak louder than words". It's about what we do, not what we say. If I conducted an honest evaluation of my behavior, and not what I write in my journal, I bet I would be appalled by my inability to live in the moment. A very special person in my life this year taught me what it's like to do things spontaneously, and I am so grateful for his ridiculing me about always making plans. Life is what happens when you're making plans, right? There's only so much that we can plan for and predict about our futures, it's true.
So here's a question that my weekend (so far, just one night) has inspired me to ponder: What would my life look like (in the next six months, in the next seven years, in the next twenty-four hours) if I stopped making plans? What if I let go of this desire to have control over what happens when I graduate and just plunge myself into all the brilliant hobbies and love affairs I think I don't have the time for? Would I really be so sleep deprived? Or would I get the best sleep of my life because my days were so full of activity and joy and doing shit just because?
I've written about balance quite a bit in the last year. Maybe not through this blog, but definitely through my own journaling. Finding a way to reach an equilibrium between doing what I love, working to pay the bills, and finding time to invest in relationships is a challenge for everyone. Some of the brightest entrepreneurs think that 'balance' is a false concept, and that 'fit' is more apt. But regardless of whether balance is the right term to use, there's no doubt that I've always associated a clock with my decisions. Sometimes it would be in that time that I was spending with someone else. How much time do I have left before I have to get going to the next thing? Am I running late for that errand I have to run? Will this make me late to class? Other times it was more long-term. Will this allow me to graduate on time? What if I can't find a job when the growing season ends? What if I get to be 80 years old and my body doesn't allow me move in that way anymore?
A very wise person once told me that when you're chilling, you're not allowed to look at the clock.
What I've decided to start implementing in my life starting TODAY is the concept that when you're actually living a meaningful, love- , passion-, and gratitude-filled life, you must forget the clock. You're not allowed to count the years, the hours, the days, any of it. Just do it. And don't look back. Don't give a fuck about what anyone else around you is doing and just have fun. It's a waste of time to be concerned about what other people are pursuing themselves. It's unfair to compare yourself to others who may have mastered something that you're striving for. Progress, not perfection, as Marie Forleo would say.
Yesterday I decided that what my spirit needed was to escape the city. I wasn't thinking about the clock. I mean I knew I needed to make a reservation at some point before I went to bed to ensure I would have a place to sleep, but I didn't have an agenda. And I still don't. I'm playing things by ear, discovering as I go, and feeling so alive because of it! This falls in line with a decision I made last week that this semester I will take at least one weekend a month to get out and explore. While my colleagues may choose to spend their disposable income on happy hours throughout the week (not that there's anything wrong with drinking or socializing with other students), I imagine myself cruising on the highway to the next small town down the road. Most people who know me well know I'd rather be chilling with the old geezer named Jim at the VFW. My ability to create and dream and manifest the beautiful people and places that will fill this semester - and the rest of my life, I bet - often come from and live in these rural places. It is the slow, simple, thoughtful hospitality of rural living that I often look forward to. The unexpected attractions and willingness to help others that I find so comforting.
I could judge myself for this need. I could call myself an outcast in my cohort of planning degree students by being the one who's never around because she's "always traveling" or "on the road". Or I could flip the script, and frame it instead as the advantage that I bring to the table. The one who, in a room of thirty people, will be the only one to ask a question about how this or that affects rural people. I think in many ways this is what's needed in conversations that take place in urban settings. We need people who come from (or are allies of) rural places to speak up. To carve out room in the systems that we are a part of for nuance. Indeed, "an important function of almost every system is to ensure its own perpetuation". This was another of Donella Meadow's quotes about systems, which resonates with the way I've been feeling ever since watching a couple of videos of the youth climate activists speaking before the United Nations earlier this year.
The claims that they make - more like statements of fact - feel like a punch in the gut. Yes, every time we get in our cars, it's a decision that is taking away the opportunity of a child that's not yet born. What that opportunity is, I have no clue, but it seems like all the more reason to invest in each other. Especially across these so-called "divides" that are really just miles on a highway. A colleague Kim recently asked me "You know what the difference is between urban and rural?" "No," I said, "What's that?" "A hundred miles," she laughed. As a student in urban and regional planning, I do not once recall seeing the topic of a panel discussion or guest speaker representing the voice of rural. This to me is a sign that the field, and even my community at the Humphrey School of Public Affairs, can do better. Kim is exactly right. The only difference between us is distance. And if that's true, why aren't we willing to close it?
I may not have an answer to that question at this very moment, but there is one thing I am certain of. And it's that I'm committed to being part of the change in all of the communities that I am a part of these days..communities of radical ecologists, student researchers, board members, neighbors, food systems change makers, future farmers, and writers. Perhaps one of the biggest ways I can help spark this change is through my writing, something that I have always loved but never truly embraced as more than a passion. When you realize that you'll keep doing something for the rest of your life, even if you never get paid for it, it's all the more reason to never stop. Cynthia Occelli once said "when people undermine your dreams, predict your doom, or criticize you, remember they're telling you their story, not yours".
Let's write this story together, shall we? :)
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