My goal as a child was to soak up every livable outdoor minute of the day that I could, pausing only to chew and swallow what my mother handed me, and ignore her warning calls in the gathering dark. I lived outside. I did not imagine, even as a teen and adult, working 40 + hours a week that I would not spend my life outside when I could.
My vision of the future has obviously changed over the years, evolving from the bizarre; me as a sharpish Katherine Hepburn type, living in an isolated cottage but needing a butler (?!), to the simple - my plan of just backpacking continually until one day I collapsed, died, and decomposed on a moor covered in heather.
I ever only planned the outdoor spaces that would be mine. Interiors were fleeting thoughts . . . windows, reading nooks. As a young teen I had a folder, plump with scissored pictures from discarded gardening catalogues; over and over again I cut out tiny shots of teak benches beneath drooping wisteria. I thought I would live in an actual greenhouse, wending my way through a tangle of plants to the kitchen.
As I grew older, my future environment became more ordinary. I would have a potato field. I would wear boots and overalls for the rest of my life. I'd grow asparagus and brush my face against their feathery tops. My plan, up until the moment The Simple Man squeezed my heart with his calloused, tobacco scented hand, was to graduate, buy a truck and Go. Go drive around the country: Biloxi, Texas, Savannah, Oklahoma, the Badlands. Then I would return to my first real land love, Scotland. What I would do once I hiked out of Glasgow (don't let anyone tell you Edinburgh is better, if you want real, and you like grit, Glasgow is it) no longer matters because it's been replaced with my life now. I have only a handful's worth of mourning in me over missing out on my wee adventures, because it's all been so, so good.
Good except for where we live. One third of my life has been spent in the urban northeast, an area famous for unrelentingly smashing humanity together as close as possible. I think I'm suffering from a deficiency in greeness. I am advised to take advantage of the park. This isn't what I wanted. I want to live outside. I want to cook outside. I want to grow my own food outside. I want to camp in my garden. I want to fold my laundry on a broad tree stump. I want to send my children outside. I don't want to stroll through the park a few times a week and then watch my kids scatter around the playground. That's visiting outside, not living outside. I want my children to live the seasons, not merely watch them from a window and feel their differing temperatures on their skin.
My indoors would be small, but filled with light. There would be enough land to yield the bulk of our yearly food. A tiny orchard, a grape arbour, and a pond. Chickens or quail. Energy efficient - possibly off grid - that's not a deciding factor for me. I want to breath early morning air from my kitchen garden and hear the subtle but unmistakable sounds of nature beginning the day, unadulterated by humans honking, polluting, talking on cellphones, spilling Starbucks, and the ever present thumping of the bass that occurs at all hours of the day in my neighborhood. I want quiet.
When I look back, it's easy to see that a life of voluntary simplicity, minimalism, and environmentalism have always been in my nature. These are the directions I drifted until I became conscious of this and made it intentional. For me, they are all interrelated, though I understand if it's not that way for everyone. I see my best life as one that is low impact on both myself and the earth, where the superfluous has been excised, leading me to appreciate the rest. The good news is that I can live my best life anywhere, as most people can, the sad news is that I'm living it where I don't want to be living it. And that's what my struggles over contentment are about; where we live. What, you thought I was tired of The Simple Man?
As I read over this post, I grin at the irony because here I am, endeavoring to live a life of less, reducing my desires one at a time, and all I've written is "I want." So be it; I've made my peace with what I really want. It's something I can't entirely control, passed down in my mother's description of her Dziadek's potager, the warm raspberries my Grandpapa grew, the joyously intense look on my mother's face as she plans her own garden for this year and the future; it was born in me.
I consciously strive every day to want less, accept what I have, and be grateful for the enormity of what my life has been so far. But this is the one thing I cannot get over, give up, or forget about. I suspect most of us who are mindful of our wants have that one item, or dream, we refuse to give up. My dream of the future never once included a lifetime spent inside, which is where I am most of the time by default, since we don't have a real outdoors space to retreat to. The day might come when I have to realize that it's not going to happen and readjust my view of the rest of my life, especially as this isn't a monetary issue, but rather a spousal issue (he was born here; it's complicated!). Ahem. Until then, I'm still saving those inspirational outdoor pictures . . . digitally!
Do you have a dream that won't shrivel up and die no matter how much easier it would be if it did?
Damn girl, I was still contemplating your last post and trying to figure out what to say about contentment. I have struggled with contentment issues as well. My contentment issues are mostly about my career, but also a little about where we live. but I think they are a bit different than what you are describing. I (I should say we because my husband has struggled with the exact same question) have struggled to be okay with feeling content about where we have landed, the type of institution it is (teaching-centered) and the geographic location where it is situated. It is a long story, but basically, there are two types of academic career paths - teaching and research. The research is more prestigious and offers the "best jobs." They also happen to be the type of jobs that requires a massive amount of time in order to stay afloat and a certain type of personality - one that is good at schmoozing and networking. I love research - I am good at it, but I LOATHE the networking and politics involved in the research and academic publishing game. The whole thing brings out and heightens my anxiety which leads to depression, etc.. Teaching, on the other hand, beings me joy and satisfaction. I can stand up and deliver a lecture in front of hundreds of students without incident. My husband is the same way. My husband got a teaching job at a teaching school in a rural and very conservative area of TN ( you know this so I'll leave it at that). I have also recently got a teaching job at this same institution. Sounds perfect right? Well, here's the problem: it was drilled into us in gad school that this type of job (the kind of job we both love) is not desirable, it is, by many of our colleagues standards - a bit of a failure. Most people expect that we should be frantically trying to leave this institution. But we do not want to. We love the jobs we have. However, we have struggled to accept our contentment, asking ourselves, are we just fooling ourselves, are we lazy, are we just making excuses? On good days we answer these doubts with :hell no, this is a great job!" On bad days, we are less kind to ourselves. The difference is often how we are feeling about where we live on any given day. When I dreamed of where my academic career would lead me, the community was a whole lot more liberal, more culturally diverse, and a tad bit closer to a smallish city. It certainly did not look like where we live now. I have struggled to find a place in our new town. Finding "my tribe" has been exceedingly difficult. but you've read about this journey on the blog and this is getting really long. The point is, I have struggled to be okay with being content (actually really happy) with the job that I/we have verses the job people think I should want (and I don't). And I struggle with being okay about the place that we live in. I love the rural setting (if only our yard were not so shaded we could have a garden) but I struggle with being an outsider. I am sure some of it will get better now that i am not locked away every free minute writing my dissertation. Also having a full time job and being able to contribute to our income will help because we will finally be able to do more than pay the bills, and buy groceries. We will finally be able to explore our area. But the lack of money to do stuff is a whole other subject.
Great posts! Sorry I hijacked your blog. This is a clearly an issue for me as well.
Posted by: jaime | 06/13/2011 at 10:26 AM
Wow - I had not idea I rambled that much!
Posted by: jaime | 06/13/2011 at 10:27 AM
No way, I love long comments; it's more like having a conversation than just a simple, "Awesome post!" - don't ever feel bad about rambling!
I think it's hard when you find something you want to do that makes you happy but it's perceived as less than what you are worth. I know I felt (and still do sometimes) anxious about "throwing away my degree" to stay at home with the girls. Would I enjoy a career that made me happy? Sure, but this is the best way for how things are now and I'm happy at home too. And I don't even have a Phd ;)
I would never put myself in a position that could lead to depression, no matter how much more prestige or money was involved as long as I was happy with what I was doing now. Too much of a risk, especially if you're prone to anxiety disorders or stress affects you badly (yes to both of those for me). I knew long ago I'd never be able to have a job I thought was stressful because I'd be miserable. Of course, being a mom doesn't count. Sort of, ha.
Yeah, I've wondered how you were doing down there. As much as I want to live in a rural setting, one of the things I've been most concerned about was all the things you discuss. Also, I grew up a 5 min. drive from very rural Kentucky, and I am very, VERY sure I don't want to have the same experiences as an adult that I had as a kid. And I don't want my kids to have them. Because, quite frankly, my family now is just as "strange" as it was when I was a child, minus the 22 ft. tipi in the backyard (yeah, my stepdad's a Native American). I don't want to be the only liberal, quasi-vegetarian in a white only setting where we get called "heathen" for not being like them. I know that rural areas vary greatly, but it's always going to be more difficult if you're a minority in anything; sexual orientation, religion, lifestyle, race. I'd prefer a rural setting that was fairly close to a small, but vibrant college town. I feel like I'd have all my bases covered then!
On the flip side, there are always more good weirdos out there than you think! Now that you have a little free time you'll probably start finding your "tribe." I tell you, even in the most conservative places, if you can find either a natural foods store or co-op, bee-keepers, or organic gardeners, you'll find your peeps, even in TN. Which, in a lot of ways, is a really great state.
I think this contentment thing is going to be the work of a lifetime!
Posted by: TheSimplePoppy | 06/13/2011 at 01:04 PM
I am totally with you in avoiding careers that just feed my anxiety. Like I said, I love the research and writing, but I can;t stand the uncertainty of the profession. You can work your whole life and not get a job or be published. It is not even all about merit. It turns my stomach thinking about that side of the profession. Not having any real control over the course of my career scares me. It just makes me feel unsettled and anxious. It is not a good way to spend the est of my life. I would have quit altogether if I did not love teaching so much. I am just glad that I could take another route using the same degree.
This job also allows me to be a quasi stay at home mom. We don;t have to put Cater in daycare (he goes half days twice a week so he can be with other kids). Dan and I split our days with him. I think it is important that he spends the majority of his days with us if we can swing it. So I appreciate your decision to stay at home with your girls. I have to give you a hand in the homeschooling realm because I do not think it is something I would be very good at it. I really respect the work that homeschooling moms/parents put into educating their children.
"I'd prefer a rural setting that was fairly close to a small, but vibrant college town"
When I was dreaming of all the places we would end up, this is what I was hoping for. I would also add "within close drive to the mountains." I have spent way too many house wishing and talking about how great things would be if only we lived in East, TN. I have been making a concerted effort to focus on tings that make me happy to live in our area - open space, no traffic, fresh air, quiet. I am not a "city person" so I do love living in a rural area. I will find my peeps - I hope it is sooner rather than later. Do you think it would add to my weirdo image if I put an add out in the local paper :)
Posted by: jaime | 06/13/2011 at 02:27 PM
Such an interesting topic, and enjoyed Jaime's comments. My lifelong dream had something to do with horses - I am 46 and I can still remember the day 42 years ago when I touched a horse for the first time. I was able to ride on and off growing up, but by the time I was in my 20s, I figured I would never have horses. I didn't know how I would afford them, and really had no knowledge of how to choose one, take care of one, etc.
Then I saw an ad for a barn that gave lessons not far from me, and signed on. Although this didn't turn into my dream experience, it got me connected with another horse barn that suited me better. By this time I was in my late 30s, no kids, and my husband's job was increasingly successful, as well as increasingly stressful. We had always been frugal, so we were able to live on just my husban's income, and I walked away from a job I hated (hated!!!) to clean out stalls at the horse barn. having only one spouse in a stressful job is highly desirable.
But my dream was turning into a nightmare. Turns out the older you are the harder it is to learn to ride. I watched the high school kids ride circles around me with increasing frustration. oh, and guess what? I was really scared - they were not. And the trainer, who trained both horse and rider, was an abrasive 20 something who could not fathom being scared.
I had always been tough, and(somewhat) successful at almost anything I tried. My pride was wounded. And I was feeling old, and wasn't taken very seriously. I felt like the kids in the remedial reading class in grade school - the ones I had always looked down on with scorn. I just tried to be an exemplary stall cleaner - at least I kicked some teenage butt there.
Is this where the story takes its uplifting turn, like an episode of the Love Boat, where things always worked out at the end? No.
I had to have my own horse - the only ones I was allowed to ride at the barn were the old lesson horses. So I bought a 6 month old boy, and since it would be a while before I would be able to ride him, I bought a 3 yr old mare. Yeah, I couldn't ride very well, and I bought 2 young untrained horses. In response to your question, I don't know why.
Okay I will try to move this story along. I just kept trying. One of the young girls who worked at the barn since she was 12 moved into the ranks of trainer. I went to her for help, rather than the other trainer (who called me whiny when I expressed my fears and frustrations with my riding). Since I had known this trainer since she was 12 I was able to develop a relationship with her that didn't involve belittlement. It still wasn't easy. My biggest frustration was my fear. And it wasn't without reason. I did smash my wrist on one occasion.
My horses are now 8 and 9, and I can finally ride respectably. I feel more secure and much less intimidated. Along the way people suggested that I give up on these 2 (half arab, rather spirited) and get something easier, but by then I had fallen in love with my handsome gelding and pretty mare. and I knew if I gave up on them I would always regret it. So, yeah, it took me close to forever, but I did it!
Posted by: Trish | 06/13/2011 at 06:30 PM
oh, my blessed, do i have a dream that will not go away, no matter how much easier it would be if it did. I keep chipping away at "real" life in order to get to my dream. *Love* this post and the last. They are resonating in a very real way for me right now. Thank you so much!
Posted by: Sarah | 06/14/2011 at 01:08 AM
I think your position sounds really good, especially because you guys are flexible enough to be able to have one of you at home with Carter when he needs it; that's pretty great.
Jaime, I'm not entirely sure I'm good at homeschooling :) I just know that I'm better than what she is going to get with the resources and schools available to us right now. And I see that she's happy, aced her achievement tests for third grade, and seems socially and academically well adjusted. If we continue to live here, then we'll be homeschooling with the addition of tutoring and/or cyber schooling once her math skills exceed mine. Which should be any moment now!
One thing I know from living where I grew up is that the people that would be your peeps are hiding in plain sight. They're like you, in the minority and knowing it, and possibly keeping a low profile. The more judiciously open you are with people, the more comfortable someone else like you is going to feel in admitting they co-sleep, or worm compost or whatever! I know there have been times I've held back so much info thinking it sounded weird only to find that the person I was hanging out with did the same stuff!
Of course, an ad in the local paper might work too!
Posted by: TheSimplePoppy | 06/14/2011 at 07:05 AM
Trish, your story kind of blew me away. Partly because I'm deathly afraid of horses, but also the fact that you had so much determination! I think I would have thrown in the towel after the person I had to trust to help me learn to ride called me "whiny" for expressing my concerns! It's good you were able to form a better relationship with the other trainer you had known since she was a girl. Sounds like she was a lot less judgmental. I find it really strange how dismissive a lot of young people are today of older people. I know that they don't have the same experiences and, consequently, the same amount of fear sometimes, but you'd think they could grasp that concept for themselves and be at least respectful. Oh well.
I think part of my problem has been in thinking that if what I want hasn't happened in the last ten years, and it's not happening now, that it will never happen. I'm 33 and I've been ready to give up because of my own doubt and impatience. And then the only person losing out would be me!
Thanks so much for taking the time to write out your story, Trish, it was inspirational!
Posted by: TheSimplePoppy | 06/14/2011 at 07:24 AM
Hi Sara, I love your comment: "I keep chipping away at "real" life in order to get to my dream."
Ha! I feel the same way! Except I feel like my dream IS MY REAL LIFE, and this one is just the vehicle (or barrier, I guess it depends) to that. Still, though, I want to make my life now as full of joy and wonder as I can while still trying for what I really want. It's not easy to be content and discontent at the same time, but we're humans, our emotions should be complicated enough to handle it.
I think I'm going to print your little phrase above and hang it somewhere I can see it! Thanks for reading and commenting!
Posted by: TheSimplePoppy | 06/14/2011 at 07:32 AM
thanks for the lovely reply Poppy. I have never really told anyone this story in this way and it felt good to get it out. I also really appreciate that you understood how devastating that remark from the trainer was. It came just as I was getting my cast off of the wrist I had shattered on my mare (I didn't fall off, I slammed my wrist into her neck as she was bucking). I am not some especially determined person - I quit my phd program after 4 years, but the horses were a dream I couldn't let go of, and I probably wasn't really phd material anyway.
Where a person lives is incredibly important. If you can take anything from my story, it's that life isn't done with you at the age of 33. Somehow your dream can still happen. and I get the impression that it is as important to you as the horses were to me.
Posted by: Trish | 06/14/2011 at 08:39 AM
Terra,
This is a powerful, powerful, powerful post! Two in a row that blew me away. :)
I've been trying to write a post on my quest for "home" but the words haven't come out just right yet. I have a few drafts in the wings. When the story wants to be told it will flow out of me just like yours did.
My Simple Man can't handle the cold. I would put up with blizzards to be close to "tribe". We bought land and built a small rustic cabin in Northwest Arkansas, just like you said you dream of, in the rural area but close to a thriving liberal college town, and just like Jaime said, in the mountains and woods, complete with a thriving health foods community, tiny house builders, community gardeners, firefly festivals, even a smattering of alternative communities. Ahhhh. Home! After so many years of feeling "homeless" I was home!
But... Patrick my love has a terribly hard time in cold weather. We uprooted ourselves from my version of bliss for the anonymity of Florida city life. There are trials with both versions of life for sure, but I am slowly becoming more contented and settled with a citified lifestyle, but how I miss having deer come to my front door, and the thriving community of people up there.
Posted by: Tanja from Minimalist Packrat | 06/14/2011 at 09:07 AM
Wow, I don't even know what to say! I can make a promise that I'll join you living outdoors once our Mr.'s die off (in old age of course, I know what a terrible thought!) since we both won't be re-marrying! :)
Posted by: Aminah | 06/14/2011 at 09:25 AM
Living in California...sniff...I had my dream for twenty lovely years. I just wasn't ready to give it up for the monotony of rural life in Upstate New York. NY is a fine place to live, it is just not the Bay Area. My heart pines horribly.
My other dream, which is quickly closing in on me, is that I could find a job I could perform at home on my own time. I want to be my own boss, self employed...but finances dictate that I go back to work full time in the fall. Can my dream be fulfilled by then? I don't know...
Posted by: Erin Kleider | 06/14/2011 at 10:07 AM
Thanks Tanja, it definitely "flowed" out of me. I'd been thinking about it for awhile, but spring always makes me fevered for some quiet land, so this was the time to write it.
I've spent my whole life waiting to make a home, I can wait a little longer. It's hard to find that one place that holds onto you as much as you hold onto it.
I don't like the cold either, but like you, I'd put up with it and learn to live with it if the community was great and I had my own little piece of property. What you describe you had in Arkansas sounds about perfect. I quite like rural Florida too, once you get out of the city and into the scrubby trees, it's pretty cool, though I don't know if there are any alternative communities out there in the boonies!
Poor Patrick suffering in the winter! He had to go and get with a cold tolerant
Finn :) Good thing she's such an understanding partner!
Posted by: TheSimplePoppy | 06/14/2011 at 11:01 AM
Ha ha! Maybe we should make a plan to live outdoors NOW while the Mister's are living inside with their toilets and soft beds. We can be feral herb gatherers and run around late into the warm dusk with our dirty children.
Though The Simple Man did once say that if something happened to me, he would just walk into the woods and never come back out. A girl can't ask for more than that!
Posted by: TheSimplePoppy | 06/14/2011 at 11:04 AM
California to upstate NY cannot be an easy transition, Erin! All of my family is from NY (they didn't get very far when they climbed out of the boat) and I spent a lot of my time in Wappingers Falls and Fishkill when I was a kid. I loved it, but I remember the winters being pretty harsh - I imagine it being quite a shock from California.
Oh, I totally think you can be your own boss. You're so creative, you just have to find that thing you can do and be happy with and do it! Maybe you can't do it by the fall, but you can be working on it until it happens!
Posted by: TheSimplePoppy | 06/14/2011 at 11:11 AM
Actually, Trish, that was exactly the lesson I took away from your comment; that my dream isn't over at 33. How silly and youthcentric of me, but it's kind of how I was feeling! It's definitely important to me. Also, I forgot to say this in my first reply to you, but you describing how you remember the first time you touched a horse at 4 years old was powerful, it was like a portent of all you would go through to be able to ride - pretty great!
Posted by: TheSimplePoppy | 06/14/2011 at 11:36 AM
This is a wonderful post, and glad to have a chance to get over here to read it. I've had to give up so many dreams that I can't even begin to count them all. Maybe the only one that remains is to somehow make enough money as a writer and artist, because everything else I want, including where I'm living, will result from that. I'm turning 56 in three weeks. Your dreams change, but if you breathe, you dream. If you don't dream, you'll stop breathing, I swear.
I remember when I was an undergraduate and so certain that I wanted to become a college prof. So I got my master's and became an instructor while deciding whether I wanted to go into hock for a PhD. But some radical changes occurred in the way the university handled classes, and the student body itself was radically different than what I experienced as an undergrad. I hated it. So I stopped teaching and never went for the PhD. But I did get accepted to law school (with tuition remission, no less), and decided to do that--but I got pregnant with my son, with complications, so I didn't go. He himself graduated with his JD three years ago from the same institution, but hated every minute of it. Life is weird.
Posted by: Meg | 06/15/2011 at 08:47 PM
Oh, higher education. I always thought I'd have more than my BA, but throughout college I began to realize I felt so stifled in the classroom (despite enjoying many of my classes) that I knew it wasn't going to happen. I also got pregnant my senior semester so just graduating was hard. I had one philosophy professor, who told the class he was in his mid-fifties and was still paying off his PhD; his entire life since then had been spent in financial straits. No thanks.
I don't know whether I've given up as many dreams as my idea of what I wanted morphed into something else due to circumstances. I guess it's probably the same thing. I like your thought that fulfilling one dream will result in satisfaction with others. And yes, dreaming is a must!
By the way, I really enjoyed "Having It All" - you presented some deep thoughts about minimalism that I'd never heard before, I was impressed!
Posted by: TheSimplePoppy | 06/16/2011 at 07:31 AM
I loved reading this post. So beautifully written.
Posted by: Victoria - Ozarks Crescent Mural | 06/20/2011 at 04:27 AM
I have several in fact, thanks for asking. : )
1. My career. I have waited SO long to find the right fit for me and I won't give up. I work everyday towards my dream of having the career I want. It's not about money, it's about passion and loving what I do.
2. Living smaller. I like small, mostly because I am too lazy to clean anymore nor do I want to worry about upkeep. I keep pushing myself to see what I can rid my home of to make it more of a home, if that makes sense. It truly is an obsession of mine. I would like to find a little 2 bed/1 bath home with some land and make it a comfy cottage. I would also like to have a space to do animal rescue- maybe an outbuilding with a/c and heat and room to run. But nothing frivolous. I like simple.
As I am nearing 40 in a few years, I am finding my true passions in life to be moving toward the front burners and the rest are just falling by the wayside. It's quite exciting to meet the person I am evolving into. I am finding myself more content with where I am at though, and I am not quite the shark I used to be. It's nice to slow down and enjoy the view for once.
Posted by: Heather | 06/23/2011 at 12:06 PM
Thanks Victoria!
Posted by: TheSimplePoppy | 06/23/2011 at 02:09 PM
Hi Heather, I understand wanting to be passionate about your career. It's probably the only way to be happy while you work!
I like the thought of meeting and discovering the person you are evolving into! I guess we all have to go through periods of time where our priorities and dreams change, it kind of is like meeting a new person.
And I totally hear you on the small living with a little property. That's exactly what I have in mind.
Posted by: TheSimplePoppy | 06/23/2011 at 02:14 PM
Wow. I'm somewhat speechless and I'm not sure why. I can't tell if it's because your writing is so gorgeous...or if it evokes a visceral response in me, and speaks to something I usually don't have time to think about, but your candor gave me a lump in my throat. Weird that we've been talking about this subject lately on the phone and in person yesterday, but I had no idea how much this issue is taking center stage in your heart right now. I laughed out loud when I read about the "honking, polluting...ever present thumping of the bass" that is the city soundtrack. I know it's not funny, but it's an odd coincidence that I just yesterday did Danielle's impression of Brooklyn at any given hour of the night, and this is what you've been blogging about.
But it's more than that. What got me in the gut is that we do all have this dream or notion of what our life would be if we had our choice, and perhaps it gets buried in dirty dishes and the next thing to do. For me, it comes in the middle of the night, this sort of discontent or strange emptiness that I try to explain away. But it's there. I related to Tanja's post about her husband not liking the cold. I always envisioned myself traveling to Spain and Morocco and Sicily and the Caucasus and the Incan ruins...or at LEAST to the redwoods...and my soulmate turned out to have a deathly fear of as well as a philosophical objection to flying! ("If humans were meant to fly, we would have been born with wings"). What to do? It is such an absurd irony (that there HAS to be a lesson) in the fact that at 20, I thought I would live ANYWHERE but here, and by 26, we had bought my childhood home and I was sleeping in my parents' old bedroom! Driving past the same things I did when I was 7 gives me an eerie time-warp feeling, like the movie Groundhog Day. Am I being forced to replay an episode of my life over again, perhaps to get it right this time? :)
But I also agree with everyone on here that your priorities shift for different "seasons" of your life, and that God willing there will be time for all those other things in another phase. Although the idea of living in the Pacific Northwest, or Bahrain, or Peru, still attracts me, the thought of having 5 children and no grandparents in sight leaves me with an equally empty feeling. I know the novelty of atmosphere of any place I could go would wear off eventually, and I'd be faced with having to create new relationships and hope they replaced the ones I left behind. In the case of my sweet mom, for one, that would be likely impossible. There's definitely only one Nana in the world. And she's here. So I compromise, thinking, there has to be a way to create the FEELING of the life you want wherever you happen to be geographically. I know that that comes from people, from a good belly laugh over a cup of percolator coffee, from watching my babies sleep, from the smell of the mint and jasmine in my yard, from studying my husband's profile when he doesn't know I'm watching, from praying in that magical time while the world's still asleep. If I could live anywhere, but had to give THOSE things up, it wouldn’t matter how beautiful the mountains were.
But I still want to go to Turkey.
Posted by: maureen | 07/23/2011 at 02:56 AM
Maureen, road trips! Once the babes are older, you can take some road trips. While you'll never be able to drive to Turkey, you can experience a lot just within the states and Canada. I always wanted to travel a lot to, but I'm like your soulmate (okay, now this is just getting too funny!) and I've developed a severe anxiety over flying, despite having flown a lot when I was younger. I never got used to it, and it always made me sick with fear - not even of crashing, just the fact that I was not on the ground. After all, my name is Terra :)
But I still want to trail through poppy fields in Europe, backpack from the tip of England to the top of Scotland, shade my eyes from Greece's noon day heat and many other things. I've accepted now that a lot of that isn't going to happen, but I still hold onto the land thing. Land would soothe a lot of frustration for me! And I do love road trips.
I guess it's like a good compromise; everyone goes away slightly dissatisfied. Your kids have their grandparents (and your particularly wonderful mom) and a good community, and parents who have found each other through the 6 billion other people in the whole world. Mine have the same thing. Sure, there are lots of things we're missing while wiping tiny butts, but if we were doing those things we'd be missing tiny butts! I wouldn't miss dishes, though.
I think finding contentment in the life that is here now, making it the best one you have for the time and place, while still, perhaps thinking of modified ways to satisfy your dreams is a good start. I struggle with this myself, but I think it can be done! Thanks so much for commenting! I love it when my friends and family take the time to write!
Posted by: TheSimplePoppy | 07/23/2011 at 07:12 AM