WHAT we do and HOW we live

The deer in the picture here have nothing do do with this post but we see them a few times a day so I thought I'd share their picture. They're a pain in the ass when it comes to the garden (they love bean shoots) but I still like seeing them around. So...back to my post...Drew and I went for a really great hike yesterday. It was good to be out and about, sweating profusely, and chatting our way through the moss covered woods. It was great.

On the way there we somehow landed in an old debate as to whether or not a person's small, individual actions make a difference in the grand scope of things. We generally have this conversation in regards to environmental issues and the idealist in me just can't concede that he may be right. Drew has always been of the opinion that small efforts, while nice, do very little to impact the global problems of the modern world and, even worse, may distract people from the bigger issues and steps that actually WOULD make a difference.

I, being the bleeding heart idealist, cling to the ideal that me drying my clothes on the line instead of using the clothes dryer will in fact save the world in some small way and that it's "worth it" to go to such lengths to do my part. We drink organic milk, try to buy local produce, recycle all we can, and even shower together...just to save water ;) It seems like if enough people did these small things, it would matter and that the world would indeed be a better place to live. The conversation carries extra weight because I feel like it's resolution, on one level or another, should dictate both small and large decisions I make.

If it does matter, I should continue to shop and work as I do despite the fact that I often don't see all the big-picture benefits to those decisions. If, however, it doesn't matter, we're free to hedonistically do whatever we please. Theoretically, these things can work together. I may drink fair-trade, organic coffee because it flat out tastes better, not just because it's better for the earth. Similarly, I may teach school because it's flat out enjoyable (sometimes) regardless of whether or not it makes any difference for the world. Somehow, however, I feel like I need the reassurance that it DOES matter because perhaps, just perhaps, some of the enjoyment I get out of things depends on my belief that they DO make the world a better place somehow.

When we moved here I had two goals in mind. One, was to try to live up to my lofty standards of living well. Indeed, since Grandpa came home I've enthusiastically thrown myself into my role as full time Domestic Goddess and have tested myself to "live well" in doing so. I planted a little garden (with Mom) as a first step towards growing a little more of our own food. I've started drying our clothes on the line, I've sought out local farms, written more letters, made more home made baked goods, sent goodies to friends around the country, and generally tried to do all the other "good" things that a modern do-gooder woman does. These are all things that I aspired to do in my other, busier, life but didn't feel like I could keep up with. Honestly, I've always harbored romantic illusions of living off the grid and on our own (building our own house, growing our own food, depending on ourselves and on the land a little more than our credit cards and stores). I imagined this time in Oregon to be a chance to explore that lifestyle in small ways to see if I really liked it. Really, a person has to like something well enough to sustain her when it seems like it's not making a big difference right?

My second purpose or hope for this time here (for myself anyway) was to create a physical and emotional space for me to figure out what the heck I want to do with myself in the future. I know I'm pretty well done with teaching but still feel strongly drawn to education and learning. I know that from my time in Ecuador working with natives in the jungle to my time with Grandpa here, I approach the world as a teacher. I like the challenge of figuring out how to help other people make sense of their worlds and the new things that come into those worlds. As I talk with teachers back in Colorado I still feel strongly connected to the work they're doing and I long to plug myself back into the system in one way or another.

Through all of this, I come back to the same questions that are at the base of Drew's and my little discussion and I find I still don't have many answers. I worry about whether or not what I do matters and I worry about what I will do next and how it will matter. Today, I look for fulfillment in the ins and outs of my slower paced life here and think about my friends who are starting the new school year today. As much as I loved/hated teaching, I didn't like the person it reduced me to. As much as I like puttering like a part time farmer and full time domestic goddess, I can't help but feel like I'm missing out on some sort of greater purpose that's waiting for me. Finding that calling now would mean less time to bake bread, weed the garden, and tend to my "eggs" that I'm so looking forward to. At the same time, protecting all that time to putter could mean missing out on something that lets me use my skills to do more good than put food on the table.

I firmly believe that it DOES matter not just WHAT we do but HOW we live.

I, like my peers, want to live well and feel like my daily actions somehow make the world a better place. I know that more than one of my other girlfriends are struggling to juggle family and career (both of which are immeasurably meaningful and fulfilling). I empathize with them feeling trapped in a similar tug-of-war but perhaps with less clear opposing forces. I wonder where I will find my own balance between home and just living right, and a career or other work that allows for greater expression of my self. Is it possible to create a synergistic combination that will satisfy all my life's passions and whims AND pay me enough to support my half of this household? Is that too much to ask for?

I think that when it comes down to it, people want to do the right thing. They want to do the right thing from the everyday choices they make all the way up to the big ways of how they divide or unify the competing demands on their time. As I search for the golden eggs of this Oregon adventure I can only hope I will find the right thing for me. Until then, I'll be drinking wine, watching the sunset, and keeping vigil over the garden to try to keep the deer out.