Reflection on the journey into a new year. There is so much talk these days about following one’s own muse, but I confess that I have actually always been a bit envious of people who seamlessly fit into a group or a way of life. I do not mean just a little envious, but truly the sinful kind. I have journeyed through so many different cultures in my life without ever feeling a sense of belonging. Along the way I found that different cultures and subcultures all have wonderful, beautiful aspects and they all have terrible and frightening facets as well. I have never expected any of them to be perfect, but I spent too much time trying to make them “fit” and then dealing with my own disappointment that I would never feel a part of each particular tribe even if I learned to speak the language. The truth I have discovered is that there is nothing noble or superior about being a perpetual outsider. Most of the isolationists I have met have been afflicted with a miserable case of misanthropy in the pursuit of that mythic ideal of the rugged loner. It did not take me long to figure out that they were not my people either. When people want to know why I spend so much time in the woods, mountains, deserts, swamps and wild places of the world, I have to be honest. I do not go there simply for leisurely recreation. I go there because I feel a sense of belonging in those places that I have felt since a child, but I also love people. That has been the particularly vexing part of this journey. Many of the naturalist people I have met along the way seemed to relish a sense of exile from society. Once on a dinosaur dig in Montana, the paleontologist we were camping with told me as a matter of fact that he did not care what happened in the world at large. If it all fell apart tomorrow, he was still going to be out there in the badlands digging his bones and piecing together the clues from a world that no longer exists. I was strangely in awe of his ability to disconnect and I was also crushed, because I knew it was a quality I have never possessed or been able to muster. I had climbed my mountain and found my guru. He was sitting there in a cowboy hat with his equipment on the edge of a dried up Hell Creek. He was the intellectual version of John Wayne with his Ph.D. and I realized in that moment that no matter how hard tried, I could never be him. I was in the process of discernment for Holy Orders in the Episcopal Church at the time. Thankfully, it is a long and slow process because it gave me time to experiment with a novel idea. Instead of trying to be someone else or fit a preconceived mold, I decided to let my vocation simply be to have fun playing the cards I was dealt and let my life speak whatever it was supposed to speak. Maybe my focus had been too narrow all along. Instead of trying to fit into a particular tribe or culture, maybe I could be at home with all of them if I learned to be at home in my own skin. Somewhere along the way, I found that I love people of all tribes and cultures---conservatives, liberals, Protestants, Catholics, people of faith and people without faith. I admire people who can seamlessly fit into one particular tribe or culture, but if you find that cannot, I offer you this personal advice. Stop trying so hard and you might just discover that your unique life has something wonderful to speak into this world. It sure would be a shame if you never let it.
Posted on: Fri, 02 Jan 2015 14:54:32 +0000
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