Why I Am Not at Home On a Plane

© Chace + Smith Photography

What is home to you?

I am a nervous flyer. That is to say, I am now, in my late 20s, a nervous flyer. I have flown my whole life, with company or by myself, with confidence and ease of mind. When I was a toddler, my family lived in Norway, flying often across the ocean and around Europe. Then, when I was ten, we moved to France for a year. I remember those plane rides more vividly, and while I may have experienced some air sickness, I never felt afraid for my life.

Now, some 19 years later, I have developed a fear I cannot explain. I recently flew back to Austin, TX, where I recently lived for 4 years. It had been over 3 years since I had flown, and while it was unacceptable NOT to take the flight, since it meant going somewhere fun and exciting, I was, nonetheless, apprehensive about how the experience would be. It's hard not to build something up in your head that you are afraid of if you haven't done it in some time.

I worked hard with my acupuncturist in the weeks prior to my trip to try and discover where these feelings might originate. One concept that came to light was my strong allegiance to "home." By this, I mean "home" in the literal sense, but also the visceral sense. Home is grounded, safe, and full of personal meaning. It can be in multiple places, and with various people. For instance, Austin is one of my homes, and so is Mercersburg, PA, Highland Lake, Moscow, ID, and Bainbridge, NY. Home means being with my loved ones, my husband, my dog. Home means having two feet on solid ground.

"Home" is not careening through the air at 30,000 feet.

My fear generates partially from the idea of "leaving" home, whether physically (i.e. getting in a plane and going somewhere far away) or figuratively (i.e. well...dying, and having to leave everything I know behind forever). Getting on a plane opens up the possibility for both. Of course, part of my fear is irrational, and I realize this, but it makes it no less potent and real experientially.

Another element that ties into my need for "home" is the idea of buoyancy. Think about the saying, "I feel light as a feather." I immediately picture Charlie Bucket and Grandpa Joe drinking "fizzy lifting drinks" and floating merrily up, up, up! The saying has positive connotations; it means you are happy, free-spirited, and unaffected by the trials of the world.

But buoyancy can also involve feeling so disconnected or untethered to any sense of "home" that you actually experience vertigo (picture that spinning fan at the top of the ceiling that suddenly turns Charlie and Grandpa Joe's experience into a nightmare). This is how I feel on a plane. If the pilot has to lower the plane in altitude to avoid turbulence, for instance, I easily lose my sense of groundedness and control, and mentally feel afraid that something is wrong with the plane (i.e. we're "going down"). Not a pleasant feeling. There is a reason I don't ride on roller coasters either. I have never enjoyed feeling like my stomach is in my throat. If only I could just burp away the fear, Willy Wonka style!

My recent flight experience ended up being somewhat fine, and somewhat distressing. On the way to Austin, I was determined to make flying a positive experience and focused on my reverence for the amazing flying machine in which I sat. I venerated the mechanical precision of the wings and engines, and the miraculous buoyancy of this gargantuan contraption. In those rational moments, I knew that planes are built to be in the air, and are actually safer when in flight, and that air travel is the safest form of travel. The return flight, on the other hand, was a bit bumpy, and I was faced with having to admit to myself the reality of my fear. Looking out the window, travel-weary from our crazy week in Austin, I just wanted the flight to be over and to be safe on solid ground, to regroup, and continue to work on this new fear of mine. Luckily my sister was with me, and handles flying quite well. It was nice to have her reassurance when the plane would make sudden dips in the sky.

My goal in working on this fear is to achieve a "buoyancy balance" (catchy, huh?), wherein I am rooted in self-control, mental ease, and confidence, but have a lightness in spirit, and a bounce in my step. This concept is helpful in everyday life, as well as in addressing any of the fears we may experience, whether they are ingrained or new ones surfacing without warning. Hopefully, I will achieve some balance with my fear of flying. After all, I have a lot of traveling left to do!

Do you ever feel like your "buoyancy" is unbalanced? Have you experienced new fears as you grow older that you never did before? What gives you a sense of "home"?

Migrations of My Youth

My husband and I have made some relatively significant transitions in our young lives thus far. Apparently I had a secret yearning to live the life of an Army brat - though my parents are teachers - considering that I have moved all over the country since leaving home after high school. First came Boston, then Moscow, Idaho, then Austin, Texas. I feel fortunate to have sampled so many diverse regions of our great country; I have rubbed elbows with cowboys and cowgirls, Mormons, Mass-holes, hippies, and yuppies. From the East Coast to the Third Coast, I have become well-versed in moving my life around and making big transitions.

What does it mean to move? To migrate? To transition? I have found that it has most often refreshed my spirit and forced my eyes to see new things I may have missed before - about life, people, my country, etc. Any notion of a schedule goes out the window for those days/weeks/months during which you make the transition. It is also a perfect way to break down any semblance of a comfort zone one may have instituted during a settled period.

Likewise, in migrating, I have met many migratory people. These people, including myself I'm sure, seem to view life from a wide-open perspective, allowing people into their lives with ease knowing that to make the time in a certain location memorable, you must "love the one you're with," so to speak. My migrant friends also seem to be very good at staying in touch, perhaps more than my more settled friends do. We are invited to each others' weddings, send each other Holiday cards, and make the occasion phone call just to talk. Oftentimes, I end up speaking with a far-away pal more frequently than one who lives just down the road.

What is an aspect of moving that I am not so fond of? Potential for years of something best expressed in Portuguese: saudade, an amalgamation of longing, nostalgia, homesickness, yearning, particularly in regards to a place one may never return to. I knew that I would return to my roots from time to time, for visits and vacations, but would this place always linger in my heart in such a way? Would I ever be successful in moving back for good? And would it be all that I had hoped an dreamed it would be? For there is a certain romance and mystique surrounding a place for which one might experience saudade. I feared that I might return to this place and find myself wanting to leave again, forever searching, longing, and migrating.

So far, my transition home to Mercersburg, PA, to this place I have longed for, though I cannot always explain why, seems more resolute than others, especially now that we are moved into the farmhouse. It is a rental house, but a house nonetheless, one where we could grow a family, live below our means, and save for the future. There is much promise in this house. Whether my Army brat tendencies will start to itch, only time will tell. For now, I just want to be here, sit in this quiet, spacious house as the world spins around me, walk along horse pastures and watch deer as they watch me, unblinking - let my late 20s be a time to contemplate migrations of the past and the stillness of today.

Ryan and I play with Sadie during our first snow

Our new home!

A Time and Place for Unhealthy Foods

My family hails from upstate New York, specifically the rural areas of Bainbridge and Walton, East of Binghamton. This is a land where nut-brown wood paneling and maroon vinyl adorn the bowling alleys and bars where my family gathers over the holidays. It is often bitterly cold outside during this time, the sun slanting early over the hills and the snow dust swirling like a lace curtain over the winding roads. Thus the cozy, dark corners of my Grandmother’s house and the local bars beckon us to gather there and linger for hours. This is vacation, after all, so I am always primed for a respite from my tidy routine. Good timing, since glistening popcorn balls, ribbons of strudel, scrumptious cakes and pies, succulent bacon, buttery mashed potatoes, golden fries and spicy hot wings suddenly besiege me. My sensory organs are piqued, my stomach ready to be commiserated and cheered.

I try to allow myself these few days away from my normal standards, but I am inexorably facing feelings of guilt deep in my psyche all the while. Why? Because I know too well the potential havoc these foods can wreak on my anatomy, and the environment to a great extent. But does it ever strike you as unfair that some of the best tasting foods are the worst for you?

No, I say, I will not be a patsy to my country’s gross obsession with fat and calories. It obviously has done nothing in the way of halting the spread of obesity and greed. Therefore, when faced with a platter of fried chicken tenders and fries that someone has ordered at the bowling alley my family often haunts during the holidays, I indulge in the name of tradition and celebration. It wouldn’t be fair to deny myself the full package of this experience, to not allow the wonder of comfort food to work its charm! The smell of the wing sauce, the glass rim of the beer bottle on my lips, the bowling saddle shoes on my feet, the sight of my family gathered together – the whole throw-my-reticence-to-the-wind experience must be fulfilled and relished; or these artifacts and scraps of nostalgia that illuminate my present life will fall prey to the wolves of dereliction. The scaffolding of my past will begin to decay with neglect. Thus, I indulge with reflection and gratitude, taking only enough to keep the wolves at bay, and leaving room for new memories to grow.

So go ahead, throw caution to the wind! Put an extra scoop of whipped cream on your hot cocoa and let the memories in!

How do you indulge and reminisce?

(Photo: My mom and I enjoy some holiday libations this Thanksgiving)

Creature Comforts (Part 3): Paring down: SHOPPING

Photo Ryan Smith ©

Continued from Paring Down, an introduction:

In regards to shopping and material possessions, how do we pare down without denying the happiness that can come with abundance?

I’m not going to deny it; sometimes money can provide happiness. As much as I am proud of my frugality and aptness at paring down, buying new things does provide a certain satisfaction when it comes to embracing and expressing my identity. But it is the simple enjoyment of each item I acquire that allows me to be mindful of when I have enough and when I just have too much.

I know a lot of people who buy something just because it is on sale. This is an easy way to quickly attain too much. I try to go shopping with a list of things I need (and “need” is subjective isn’t it?) and only buy those things. If something is on sale, great! If not, I usually base the level of need on the price and either take it or leave it. I try to be a selective and mindful shopper; as I hear my products beeping across the scanner at checkout, I pretend I am a kid in a candy store, ogling at what I am able to buy.

Ultimately, balance is the goal here: my $300 pair of cowgirl boots from Austin, Texas is one of my most prized material possessions. But though they sit on a shelf to be admired, I wear them (and dance in them) several times a week and have them repaired and cleaned often. Lesson: splurge when the time is right, but cherish the heck out of the purchase and admire it daily. Once you stop admiring or wearing an item, which often happens, give it away. This will de-clutter your mind and your closet, providing a new perspective on the wonderful things you still hold dear.

Also, take the time to go through that overflowing attic or that spare room full of stuff you’ve been meaning to sort through. Donate or recycle anything you no longer wear frequently, or that no longer serves an aesthetic or emotional purpose in your home. You will hopefully find that paring down is even more rewarding than filling up your shopping cart. Don’t save it for a rainy day! There’s no better time than now to initiate positive change in your life.

P.S. This also applies to buying gifts. Give fewer, more meaningful gifts – be excessive with warm complements and good cheer!

What are your most prized possessions and in what ways do you cherish them? What are your shopping habits and how do you pare down in regards to material possessions?

Creature Comforts (Part 3): Paring down, an Introduction

“In spite of illness, in spite even of the archenemy of sorrow, one can remain alive long past the usual date of disintegration if one is unafraid of change, insatiable in intellectual curiosity, interested in big things, and happy in small ways.”
- Edith Wharton

After a brief interlude, I continue my Creature Comforts series with another idea about how one might find a happy medium between comfort and precariousness. This topic will be presented in several parts since it is one worth deliberating on. Within these parts, I will hash out the notion of paring down: What does it mean to pare down in a society where more equals more? How can we pare down in a way that doesn’t deny us our happiness? And what’s the point? This section will serve as my introduction, followed by several posts that provide specific examples of how one might pare down.

“Simplify Life” is a notion that has gained more and more prevalence during the twenty-first century thus far. With all the choices available to us, and our burgeoning consumer habits, we are crying out for simplicity in the hopes of finding a more wholesome way to nourish our souls. As a culture, we often look back on the “good old days” as examples of how simple and easy life used to be. Things tend to seem as though they were better back then. Problem is, the people living “back then” looked to their pasts for the same inspiration. Thus, we must find ways to carve out simplicity in our present lives, lest we trap ourselves in an endless web of nostalgia. This can involve giving up some of our creature comforts, but in the end I truly believe it is worth the sacrifice.

Despite the heralds of gloom and doom about the shrinking middle class and lack of sufficient health care, my life as a North American feels downright cushy. Perhaps part of the reason I feel this way is due to my sunny disposition; I don’t often want for much and am generally satisfied with what I have. But I did indeed grow up in a country where it is easy to live comfortably, speaking subjectively of course, on teacher’s salaries. My parents, both teachers, had four children, and though I couldn’t always get the outfit or toy that I wanted, my basic needs were met and I had a blissfully happy childhood (no lie!). Essentially, I learned to rejoice in small ways and dream about big things (like the quote above). I believe this is the crux of the debate about frugality, prosperity, and simplicity in our abundant and plush society. It is the moral to this story.

So, what is the point of paring down?

I am going to be a bit extreme here and say it is our responsibility to pare down in everything we do day to day. It is our duty to limit in any ways we can the strain we put on our natural resources. Sure, spending bolsters the economy and we, as consumers, are what drive this capitalist machine. But it is easy to get more than we need or ask for in our society, e.g. whopping helpings at restaurants. Gladly, it isn’t hard to break the habit of accepting blindly what is placed in front of us. The point? Paring down is the simplicity we’re searching for, and it is not as hard to attain as we might think.

I look forward to reading your thoughts and comments about this topic in this and the following posts. Enjoy this great day!

BLOG ACTION DAY: “How Many Planets?”

Photo by Ryan Smith ©

Today is Blog Action Day, a day in which bloggers from around the globe blog about one topic only. This year’s feature topic is the Environment, one that is certainly not untimely since it is becoming more and more the hot issue. It is a topic that can induce a plethora of reactions and emotions: spirituality, love, fear (global warming is what really keeps me up at night worrying, not money or work stress), happiness, etc. Thus, there are many angles from which to approach such a theme. For me, the obvious direction in which to take my Blog Action Day post is from a conservationist perspective.

How many planets do you think would be required if everyone lived like you or me? Have you ever asked yourself this question? My youngest sister recently performed an exercise at her high school that allowed students to estimate how many planets would be needed depending on each person’s lifestyle. I’m sure many of them were surprised to find that they would need several per person! What we often forget is that not everyone on this earth lives the consumptive lifestyle that we North Americans do. We are taking and using more than our fair share of natural resources, plain and simple. We may often forget this fact since it is natural to think of ourselves as tiny specks on an enormous planet, not fathoming that the ecological impact of just one individual is astronomical. What is often referred to as our “carbon footprint” should perhaps instead be called our “carbon crater.”

The emergence of the American Dream and the rise of our capitalist society as a “superpower” in the global economy have cultivated deep in our psyches a certain standard for what we think we deserve and have a right to as citizens of the earth. Recycling is not required (as it is in some countries), nor is a certain fuel economy for our vehicles. Thus, trash cans and landfills overflow and Hummers run at large on our highways. Why would our government ever take away our “freedom” to consume as much as we want? That would be un-American! Though I see many examples of this trend slowly changing for the better, it is ultimately up to us as citizens to make our own choices to decrease our global carbon crater back to a footprint.

In my recent Creature Comforts series on this blog, I discussed the idea that comfort is a default for many people in our society. Likewise, reducing our carbon footprints can involve initially going out of our comfort zones, making more of an effort, and potentially spending a little extra money. But if we can make spending and consuming a priority, there is no reason why we cannot tweak the ways in which we do so in order to give back a little of what we take. Small changes create large effects in the long run, and it doesn’t have to be as hard as one might think. Unfortunately, the resources and messages to conserve are not nearly as accessible as those encouraging rampant consumption and materialism. The media is greatly at fault for this as messages of “bling” and flashy cars are touted as the ultimate status symbols. But there is hope in that the media and technology can also be used to spread new, grass-roots messages. Blog Action Day is a terrific example of this.

Of course, we must be proactive in any way we can to start the process of shrinking our global footprint to a smaller shoe size. We have to constantly be mindful of the possibilities available in every day, as well as the hypocrisy and irony involved in being a conservationist in a materialist society. After all, I am sitting at my desk as I write this, using an Apple computer whose construction involved toxic materials and waste, and whose usage requires me to suck energy from the grid hour after hour. Indeed, I feel guilty about this, but perhaps a little guilt and humility is what we as a society need to shift the pervasive message of take-whatever-you-want that has seeped into our psyches over the decades.

Here is a list of simple things you can put into action every day to keep your footprint as small as possible. All it takes is common sense and creativity. This list is in no way comprehensive, so please share ways in which you reduce your impact.

• If you are able, walk. Why do you think we were given two feet?
• Go shopping! That’s right, go buy several canvas bags and keep them in your car for your trips to buy groceries. You can even put plastic or paper grocery bags that you already have in the canvas bags to take with you and reuse as well. Do it now, there is absolutely no excuse not to.
• Shop locally as often as possible. Check out Local Harvest for more resources.
• Eat at home as often as possible. Restaurants often serve too much and give you leftovers in Styrofoam containers to take home and throw away. To-go meals often result in a ton of waste in your garbage can that end up sitting in the landfill for decades. Eating in and packing your lunch are also healthier since you can control what ingredients you use and how much you consume (this also goes for children's school lunches).
• When shopping ask yourself, “Do I really NEED this?”, even if it is on sale. Material items give us our identities and ground us to the realities we create for ourselves. But they also take energy to make and many end up in the landfill so just pause and think before you buy. Keep a list of things you really need (groceries, clothes, etc.) to have on hand if you ever need a reminder.
• Be aware of marketing schemes. Now that fuel economy in vehicles is the selling trend, companies are touting new “low” mileage numbers on their advertisements. This is a standard they are setting to make you think these numbers are impressive. Always demand better fuel economy when purchasing or leasing a car, or buy a used car that has a good reputation for gas mileage. Compare mileage through reliable sources that give you the facts. If you really want to make a difference, get rid of your car altogether. This is easiest in urban areas, but it can be done anywhere you live with a little resourcefulness.
• For heaven’s sake, don’t flush every time you pee! Shut the lid when you are done to avoid seeing or smelling anything unsightly and clean often with vinegar to deodorize and sanitize the toilet. Number 2 is another story. Go ahead and flush that down. Let guests know of the house rules and spread the word about this simple, money-saving tip. You can also invest in a low-flow toilet that uses less water when flushing.
• Carbon Offsetting: donate money to organizations that fund projects such as reforestation and energy conservation to offset our vehicle emissions and other polluting habits. Carbonfund.org is just one of the many organizations that provide such a great service.
• Be aggressive and unapologetic about being a conservationist. I am not suggesting you go out and get arrested for it. But if a cashier says he has already bagged your item but you don’t want the bag, don’t let him force you to take it. Just say no thanks and give it back. If someone is helping you bag your groceries, make sure they don’t double bag or put too few items into each bag. I can fit a week’s worth of groceries in no more than 3 deep canvas bags. Always ask if someone has recycling in his or her home or building.
• Rewash plastic baggies and hang them to dry for future use (this also includes produce bags from the grocery store). I am proud to say that my husband and I have had the same box of baggies for the past 4 years! Also, check out this wonderful product!
• This may be a sensitive topic, but you are responsible for how many children you bring to this earth and how much they consume while they are here. If you must have a large brood, please teach them to be good stewards of the earth and how to keep their impact low. Everyone deserves a happy life on this great planet! That means we have to leave it the way it was when we entered it for future generations to enjoy.
  

After all, how many planets do we really have? One. One planet is all that has been bestowed upon us to support it as it supports us. This is Blog Action Day, so let’s commit to ACT today to make big changes for this one planet that we have before it’s too late.

Creature Comforts (Part 2): Be a Pioneer!

In my last post, I asked the following questions: How can we help but opt for the comfort that surrounds us? And is there a happy medium? Ultimately, at the heart of these questions lies the purpose of this blog: to live each day to the fullest. I got some wonderful comments in response to this topic, and I invite you to peruse them and supply your own thoughts. In this post, I will continue my Creature Comforts series and offer insights and personal experiences in order to explore how one might find a happy medium between comfort and precariousness (several proceeding posts will feature more on this topic, so please stay tuned).

BE A PIONEER!
The first time I ever felt like a true pioneer was when I moved with my boyfriend-now-husband from the East Coast to the wilds of Idaho. This would be the first time I would live in a place where none of my family members (or probably even ancestors) had ever lived. Likewise, I couldn’t help but feel like a pioneer in Idaho, knowing that so many settlers had traversed the central plains of our nation to reach this wonderful land of extremes: big spaces, towering mountains, and rushing, icy rivers. Vulnerability took on a different meaning going from city life in Boston (where I went to college) to a state whose entire population hovers around 1 million. I could dare to do things in Idaho that I never would have back East: snowshoeing to the top of Moscow Mountain just outside of our town and snowboarding back down through fresh powder, barely seeing another human all day; rafting across the Salmon River with friends and hiking to hidden hot springs up the side of the canyon, then rafting back down the river in the dark to our private beach where we slept in the open air; traversing 60 miles of river through the Labyrinth Canyon of the Green River with three friends (OK, that was Utah) battling spells of cold rain, slower than expected currents (therefore lots of rowing), reading stories to keep our minds off the slow pace, and living out of a small raft equipped with only a cooler, some gear, a Groover, and my guitar. I might add that none of these activities cost very much money, though good ol' resourcefulness was required to make them happen.

The thing I took away from these marvelous experiences, and the lesson I wish to impart on my readers, is that I was in fact opting not to be comfortable in all three of those scenarios (actually, very uncomfortable in some circumstances). The uncertainty and precariousness of each situation allowed me to define myself as an adventuress, a pioneer, and a more fulfilled person. Ultimately, we do have a choice in the matter, and choosing to challenge the boundaries of our comfortable lives as often as possible is the wisest option if you are interested in seeing how full your life on this earth can be. It is certainly not easy to go beyond one's zone of comfort, but I'll never forget how it felt to slip under crisp, white motel sheets after 5 days on a cold, murky, and dreadfully slow river. For it is the juxtaposition of vulnerability and safety that make being inside and outside of comfort so worthwhile. Indeed, the great part of living in a society that is so navigable is that you can find a happy medium and live a comfortable, daring, and meaningful life. It all depends on what "meaningful" means to you.

Of course, you don’t have to go “into the wild,” so to speak, to be a pioneer or adventurer. The goal is to find opportunities or circumstances that will spark that ember of bravery that lives inside of you, master it, and put it into action. This can involve an enlightening personal journey through nature or paving the way for change in human rights, cancer research, or environmental policies, to name a few.

Being a pioneer is not something that is necessarily accomplished in one day or sitting, so it is important to think of small steps to take that will allow a pioneering goal to come to fruition. And don’t think you have to climb Mount Everest to be a pioneer. The smallest acts can often make the biggest difference.

My latest pioneering achievement was moving with my husband and business from Texas to our tiny hometown in Pennsylvania. It was a risky and precarious decision but I have already noticed the benefits that came with it. I feel more connected to my community, family and friends and see small but wonderful things happening everyday.

What are your pioneering achievements or goals?
In what ways do you opt to go "outside" of comfort?

Creature Comforts: allowing and denying ourselves in modern society (Part 1)

I lay on the floor of my best friend’s apartment, my cheek resting on my left hand, the other hand clutching a hair dryer. On the floor beside me, swaddled in a green fleece blanket, lay my friend’s six-week-old daughter, Louisa. My husband and I were taking the baby’s portrait and were amused to learn that the heat and white noise from the hair dryer would calm her enough so the camera could capture her in a peaceful moment. I held the hair dryer about a foot from her head and gently coaxed the warm air back and forth. Her soft hair lifted in response to the dryer as she wrinkled her brow, a reaction to this new sensation. Then she closed her eyes and cooed. We all laughed, reveling in her comfort. Louisa was still and peaceful as the camera shutter fired loudly. Not even the large soft-box flash could stir her now. As I lay next to her on the floor, I realized that as an adult I yearn for the same creature comforts of warmth and white noise. Watching this tiny infant beside me confirmed the notion that we as humans instinctively yearn for, indeed demand, comfort from the moment we leave the safety of the womb.

For all that, there are these little things we like to call “rites of passage” that we must go through in order to grow as humans. Whether society, family, or our egos mandate it, undertaking these rites undoubtedly involves facing a fear or multiple fears, and coming out on the other side a stronger, more capable adult. For some, the simple act of leaving the house and going into public is a rite. For others, it is climbing Mount Everest.

Several days ago, I happened to catch an episode of “Oprah”. The topic of discussion was the story of Chris McCandless, the young man who journeyed into the Alaskan wilderness to abandon his capitalist roots and live off the land alone, an act many of us in North America would find bold, if not asinine. Incidentally, he did not survive for long in this state, dying of starvation. To find out why, I recommend you read the book about Chris’ journey called “Into the Wild,” by Jon Krakauer. It is truly riveting. Incidentally, Krakauer was a guest on Oprah’s show that day, as was actor Sean Penn, who has recently made a movie based on the story. When asked what they wanted people to take away from the book and movie, both Krakauer and Penn emphasized the need for our society to let go of our comfort addiction and do something meaningful with our lives. The idea of comfort addiction gave me pause, and led me to ponder the paradoxical nature of allowing and denying ourselves comfort in modern society.

Undoubtedly, the sheer popularity of the Chris McCandless story and the can’t-shake-it reactions to it are a result of our growing need as North Americans, during such unstable times, to get back in touch with our natural state - that primal moment when our warm, sopping wet bodies entered the frigid air of the delivery room. Some destiny was waiting for us “out there” in the wild, and we went for it, and have never gone back or been the same since. This is essentially the first of many rites of passage that we must surpass throughout our earthly existence. Beyond this point, however, we generally have a choice as to which and how many risks and adventures we wish to take. And this is what Krakauer and Penn were getting at: that many of us are opting for the cushy comforts of our modern lives in lieu of living full, daring lives.

The paradox in this argument lies in the baby’s reaction to the hair dryer and my empathy with it. If we instinctively yearn for comfort, why should we deny this instinct and purposefully force ourselves into murky waters? After all, in our plush society (and yes, those were very plush chairs the guests on Oprah were sitting in), we actually have to make an effort anymore to be uncomfortable. Going into the wild (or other such daring acts) can actually cost a lot of money these days! So how can we help but opt for the comfort that surrounds us? And is there a happy medium?

I will continue this discussion in my next post.
In the meantime, please share your thoughts on this topic!