Finding Out Who You Are
I just read such an inspirational post at Cafe Mama I had to quote it here. It’s an eloquent phrasing of exactly the path I’ve been on lately, and represents an excellent moment for me to revel in being “unalone” in my quest to simplify not just my life but my ego!
Where once my dreams were full of the achievements to which I could over-subscribe, I am now in search of shedding things, activities, board memberships, keeping only those that make my heart hum quietly, that give my children a richer life. I do not want to work long hours, start a restaurant, earn venture capital funding. I do not want to franchise anything.
If you’ve been following my recent posts, it’s clear that I am exploring a fascinating intersection: how do I write this blog, how do I live this life in a way that respects values, ethics, the planet? A whole world of bloggers, twitterers and friends are my navigation system. Influences seem to find me just where I need them.
Whether it’s David Wann’s Simple Prosperity ending up on my lap as a reflex purchase to help my doula-friend Jessica raise money, or research on a tangential topic leading to my belated discovery of The Continuum Concept, or a goofy mental hiccup reminding me of Reverend Billy and his Church of Stop Shopping: influences around me seem to join forces to my aid.
As David Byrne puts it, we all reach a magical moment in time when we ask ourselves, “Well, how did I get here?” followed by a questioning of all that is around us. Do the objects, people, activities in your life tell the story of who you are? Do they fit you? It’s all too easy to ride the roller-coaster of life, under the heady influence of our culture’s worship of a “success” that spells itself out in dollar signs, brand names and cryptic acronyms, heading to some foggy destination that we vaguely imagine resembles the “Me” we want to be, and then suddenly realize that we’re not so sure that this edifice we’re building is really all that accurate.
I first encountered this conundrum when I wasn’t yet twenty. Having decided, at the peak of collegiate success, to take a breather and reconsider my career choice, I had returned home to just work for a semester. On one evening I’ll never forget I found myself tacking onto the wall every award, every trophy, medal, plaque or pin that I had racked up in my years as a “good girl” straight A student and extra-curricular over-achiever. In my search to find myself, to believe in myself, I thought, surely I would see myself there. Surely I would see that I was worthwhile, that I had something to contribute. But as I stood there staring, looking for something, pride turned to dismay. There was no “me” on that wall. Only letters and numbers, however surrounded by gold and silver.
Since then I’ve continued to struggle, and envied those whose paths seemed to head straight as an arrow to some corner of the world that seemed to match them perfectly. Still on my path, I am thankful these days to find a miraculous confluence: the words of those who share my values bubbling to the top and inspiring me, guiding me, even without realizing it.
In the film, “What Would Jesus Buy?” Bill McKibben, noted environmental author, states:
In a hundred years Americans will find another way to have fun besides shopping. My worry is that we won’t have time to evolve these changes at the usual rate - by then we will derail the earth’s systems, especially its climate.
Bill McKibben speaks of having fun without needing to collect objects, but I’m also wondering about how to have fun without “collecting achievements”!
Being a stay-at-home mom, of course, I’m forced to beg that question, but I continue to see this decision not as a sacrifice of career but as a blessing. By devoting so much of my energy to nurturing I “turn on” a part of myself that leaves me open to think about an evolution. Similar to Bill McKibben’s hoped-for evolution in caring for our planet, turning around our drive to consume, I’m hoping to turn around my drive to achieve, into an economy that gives more generously and equally.
We can’t all have BMW’s any more than we could all be CEO’s. In the world of environmental activism we turn these things around by shopping local, revering community, giving up “stuff” for experience. In our search to find out who we really are, and live our lives accordingly, I think we have a lot to learn from that same advice.
Well said! I had a moment in my life a few years ago when I saw with perfect clarity how if I’d made some different choices back in college I could’ve ended up with a life that was much different: I could’ve achieved some measure of fame and artistic recognition and possibly wealth. But I also saw how following that path would have lead me away from what is now so important to me: my husband, my children, my friends.
Whenever I start comparing myself to others and worrying that I’m not “successful enough,” I try to think back to that moment and, like you said, redefine what success ought to mean.
So much of my life has been about staying true to myself (even when everyone else thought I had lost my mind . . . thank goodness for good friends and a loving husband), and well, not being a sell out. Just recently I have decided to pull ads from my blog Green Mamma. I am only allowing the ones that I feel have any integrity to stay. Anyway, I’m rambling . . .
Thank you, mamas, for chiming in and standing with me on this point! I truly do feel, like you, Susanna, that I have to keep reminding myself of that true definition of success. But it has been so much easier lately while carving out a social networking community, as there are so many poignant reminders in the words of others!
A perfect example, Green Mamma, is that I’ve also been weighing the advertising/affiliate questions, how to respect myself and my time without promoting things I don’t feel fully comfortable with. Good to hear of someone else trying to find that “true to yourself” sweet spot!
OK–this hit me like a wall because it is so where I am right now.
Half the time I feel sorry for myself (and like an unsuccessful loser) because I never completed my Ph.D. and never will. Yet after reading countless books on simplicity lately, after pulling my children out of school to homeschool them, after deciding to stay in a tired Southern town instead of moving to a more compelling place where my husband would have an “important job” but less time with us, I have finally realized that simplicity is not failure.
Thank you for sharing this. I need this kind of accountability.