How Far Shall We Wander?

All of our efforts are voluntary, though it is sometimes hard to see. We are free to do as we please. Our free will and our innate sense and desire to help others are gifts from God to each of us. At our hearts we are giving creatures. But we are also selfish and greedy, and when those attributes are harnessed, they become work horses of incredible strength, able to pull entire economies and complex political and social systems. To deliver countless goods and services to market. And if we fail to control these beasts, they will quickly pull us into debt and servitude, and leave us feeling vulnerable and fearful as we sit in our well-appointed homes and gaze upon the beauty of Nature through our curtained windows, worrying about how tomorrow will be at work.

If we are free to choose our own enterprise, then how shall we know a good choice from a poor one? Our lives are short and our days are precious. Should we not take care to spend them wisely? To honor our gift of human life with good stewardship?

A wise man once said that the secret to happiness is not doing but rather being. And in Nature we see this truth most clearly with plants who are free to be only, their physical needs satisfied fully with no effort of their will. But we are animals of the highest form, so the truth of plants cannot take us so far. Instead, we see that all animals must work, and so must we. But the work we do now in this 21st century is rarely a holy thing. In our hearts, we are mostly unsettled about that fact. We often search for meaning and spiritual fulfillment and do not understand the emptiness that we feel even though our lives appear to be a great "success" in the eyes of others. Why does our lifestyle not satisfy our thirst? Without questioning whether we are on the right path, we often foolishly walk along it even faster. For is we are indeed heading toward fulfillment, does it not make sense to run instead of walk, thereby arriving at happiness that much quicker?

This, it seems, is the common state of the modern human. Feeling empty, we seek more. But the things that are offered to us on this path do not satisfy our spiritual thirst. The fruits of this labor do not nurish the human soul. Shall we gather even more, in the hopes of finding at least a morsel of satisfaction? Shall we continue to teach our children that this path is true and good and best?

In an ancient land, long ago, there lived many tribes of many people. Their needs, like ours, were real and pressing. Theirs was not a paradise, for there was sickness and hunger and death. And their work was not easy. Like us, they were creative and industrious and wanted a better life for their children. So when one of them found an easier way to carry water, or discovered a plant to heal the sick, or invented a way to gather more food, the whole society benefited and became more satisfied, their physical needs being met that much easier.

And so it went until they found themselves in a place of balance. For they still knew their place in Nature, that they were but one of many creatures. They shared the planet with the birds and the squirrels of the forest. They were humble and thankful for what God provided. And although they worked hard for their physical needs, as did the bird and the squirrel, their work was direct and necessary and meaningful. When they were thirsty, they carried water from the river. When some became old or sick, the others helped and gave to them freely. Their work followed the seasons and they knew the rhythm of Nature well. The time to plant, the time to harvest, the time to prepare for Winter. They did not yet envy the freedom of the bird, for they were still free in spirit themselves, and still understood all the ways of the bird, and did not yet wish to trade. It was easy to teach their children, for the lessons were simple and clear, and the benefits of their education were obvious and unquestionable.

The point of balance they had found was perhaps the closest thing to paradise that can be found for mankind. An equilibrium between the physical and the spiritual. A place where the fruits of their work fed both body and soul. They had arrived at their destination without even realizing it. 

And from that place of greatest perfection, they struck off again to explore the path even further, not yet realizing that the pursuit of even more comfort and material things would one day eat away at the very souls of their children's children.

And now, here we are, in this 21st century, so far down that path that our ancestor's trailhead can no longer be seen but can only be imagined. It survives only as folklore. But its echoes still ring in our hearts, if we care to listen. We all sense the truth of it, and we all feel the emptiness of wandering so far from paradise.

An Old Leaf Falls from My Tree

All things have their season. Like buds on a tree, new things arise in our lives from time to time. At first, we must nurture them, but as they grow and mature, they nurture us in turn, until one fine Autumn day, after having served us so well for so long, they inevitably fall away.

For more than two decades I worked for a society that was founded by international bankers and financial institutions. My full-time job was to help them succeed. I remember how excited I was to be hired by this society all those years ago, and how challenging and interesting the work was. How I nurtured my new, budding career, and believed in the great cause in which I was engaged. The projects I worked on helped international bankers across the planet, and they in turn did their part to create the global economy that we see today.

My last day on the job is December 31, 2014.

I've accepted an "early retirement" package. Inside the package, there is money. But the outer wrapping is the real interesting part. Yes, there are hints of "Thank you!", but the more prominent message is, "It is time for you to leave". The calculation has been made at corporate headquarters, and I am now a net liability. My work is no longer nurturing the corporation and must be shed.

And so it goes. The leaf of my career in financial telecommunications is sealed off from the corporate tree, and has already started to yellow. But there are new buds forming, too, and the life force in my own tree has never felt stronger. Dropping the old leaf of my corporate job is making room for new growth, and I'm excited about these new buds, and thankful that I am so blessed at this stage of my life.

As I ponder all the opportunities for change in my life that this moment brings, I realize there's nothing about my lifestyle that I want to change. In fact, I appreciate even more the benefits of tent living. That my living expenses are nearly zero, and that I have virtually no maintenance, and that I can easily relocate, and that I'm living a virtually stress-free life close to nature.

So as I fashion my dinghy and prepare to leave the mother ship, I'm happy that I don't have too much cargo in the hold. Instead, I can just gather a few things and paddle my canoe into the sunset.

Wait a minute, or is that a sunrise?