Running Away.

“The purpose of life is to be happy. In order to change conditions outside of ourselves, whether they concern the environment or relations with others, we must first change within ourselves.”

Dalia Lama

 “One cannot even begin to be conscious of oneself as a separate individual without another person with whom to compare oneself. A man in isolation is a collective man, a man without individuality.”

Anthony Storr in “Solitude: A Return to Self”

A ESPN TV commercial in 2007 depicted a woman, on her front lawn, stretching out for a run. Preparing for the run with her was a multitude of characters: her husband, children, pets, neighbors, co-workers, her boss and a host of others. They each begin the journey with her, continually interrupting her exercise and time alone.  Her boss asks about some sales figures and a project deadline at work. Her teenage daughter is declaring that she and Victor are ‘ready’ while her younger daughter begs for a puppy. A neighbor lets her know she has been missed at book club. Her doctor is warning her of her blood pressure while her husband is indicating he will need to miss her sister’s shower in lieu of the golf club championship tomorrow. Undaunted, the woman continues to run until all have fallen off the back of the pack or collapsed by the side of the trail in exhaustion. Finally, she is alone. She is “Just Doing It.”

I have felt similar pressures at times, even though I have consciously chosen to lead a simpler life with fewer attachments.  While I have always been very fortunate in my life with friends and family, there remained an unexplored part of my self. The quiet cries from that self were difficult to hear at times, but they are always there and always calling me out.  The struggles in my life were nowhere near to the struggles of the prisoners that Viktor Frankl tells of in “Man’s Search for Meaning,” yet we shared a common bond, as all humans do, in the desire to have the ability to choose our attitude in any given set of circumstances.

I believe our circles shift over time. A newborn baby will consume your time and leave little room for self or community. Pressures at work or volunteering in the community will have similar ebbs and flows. Struggles in a marriage may push you in opposite directions. The three circles remain, however, and failure to address the critical needs in any one will create anxiety that can ripple through the system, affecting all within its reach.

My hike on the Long Trail was an important exercise in solitude for myself.  Anthony Storr elaborates on the benefits of solitude as an agent for individual change; “The capacity to be alone is a valuable resource when changes of a mental attitude are required,” (Storr 1998, p. 29). Following in the footsteps of Jesus in the wilderness and Buddha under the tree, my time alone on the trail led me to find community, family and self as I had not before. In a world where noise and interference is ubiquitous, where family and community are consistently wrestling for my attention, time spent truly alone is precious.

The self though, is only as meaningful as it relates to others, in my case those in my circles of family and community. Storr posits that “a sense of identity depends upon interaction with both the physical world and other people” (Storr, 1998, p. 35). The pursuit of self should not be the end of the journey, but only the beginning of greater understanding of how my circles of self are distinct yet inextricably linked. 
    

For me, the simple act of a solitary retreat into the woods of Vermont was the Everest I chose to climb. That was my “it.” It allowed me time to reflect and renew, to realize that I was capable of summiting that peak, and allowing others to understand why it was important for them too. As a result, it has helped me articulate what is important to me in my life, what is important for my family, and what is important to the friends and neighbors that I pass through this world with. We each have our own Everest to climb, be it the real monolith or the one simple hope that will not expire.

Why does any of this matter?

“Man’s search for meaning is the primary motivation in his life and not a “secondary rationalization” of instinctual drives.”

            Viktor Frankl in “Man’s Search for Meaning”

In his book “Into the Wild,” Jon Krakauer chronicles the life of Christopher McAndless. Christopher was born only days apart from me in 1968. Throughout the book, I drew many similarities between our life journeys.  Born of caring yet sometimes distant parents, his troubled relationship with his father led Chris to question much of his upbringing and many of the messages he received from society. Chris often looked inwardly for meaning and drew his inspiration from exploring, meeting new people and traveling across the country. He found himself drawn to Alaska and the frontier life, as if to finally prove his worth in a battle against only himself. Likewise, Alaska has and always will pull at my desires to explore and help me rediscover myself. It is an Everest that still waits for me.  

            I read Krakauer’s account of McAndless’s life and I was eager to watch the movie with my wife.  The book and movie end with Chris dying in a lonely bus that he used for shelter in the wilds of Alaska, the victim of starvation after probably eating seed pods he thought would be safe. Nearing starvation, one of his final acts was to take a picture of himself in the hopes it would one day be found. Despite his emaciated condition, likely only hours from his own death, he appears to be smiling and at peace in the photo.

As the movie concludes with Chris’ lifeless eyes peering deep into the skies, I asked my wife what she thought of the story. “Sad, depressing” she said. “Why was he so selfish and stupid? Where was his family? What did you think?” My reply was a complete 180. “I found it inspiring. Chris was seeking truth and hope and was digging into the marrow of his life. It is always sad when someone dies alone, but that was his journey that he chose. Chris did not leave that page of his life unturned, and he died with a certain peace of mind that few ever experience.”   

This was not the first time my wife and I had different viewpoints on a movie or event. Why was it that I was somehow inspired though and my wife was seemingly depressed?  How many other events and decisions in our lives have arrived at with diametrically opposing viewpoints? We all view stories and events through our own lens, shaped by a lifetime of experience and perspectives. I’ve often wished for others to be able to look through my lens so that it would be that much simpler for others to understand me, namely my wife.

Examining my own three circles, I now understand how important that part of self is to me, though not at the expense of the other two circles. Balance has been essential to maintain my own happiness. Within that circle lie independence, strength, nature, wisdom, and individualism. All of these characteristics I shared with Christopher McAndless; I likely share some of these traits with my wife as well. However, I chose to marry her to complement me, and this she has always done well. I have resorted at times to feeling as though the circle of self is not important to her, yet I have never gone so far as to ask her what might truly lie within her circle of self. Beyond my own wife and my family, how are we to know what is important to others?

Perhaps the search for self is ultimately a search for meaning, or hope, or the dreams that are often the result of having a hope that gives you greater meaning. Viktor Frankl wrote of this search for meaning as “the primary motivation in our lives and not a “secondary rationalization” of instinctual drives”.  He arrived at this conclusion while a prisoner in the Nazi Concentration Camps and bearing witness to fellow prisoners in their struggle to maintain life, “…with this loss of belief in the future, he also lost his spiritual hold; he let himself decline and became subject to mental and physical decay” (Frankl 1984, p. 105).

            For me, my hope was to hike the Long Trail, among many adventures I dreamed of. More than the hike though, it was that shred of independence, that test of strength, and a morsel of communicating with the Almighty. Those will remain with me and are integral parts of my circle of self. For my wife, it may have more to do with the worth she derives from raising our children, or the time alone she can steal while working in the garden. For each, the circle of self is distinct and unique. Each act of self though is wrapped in family and community as the three circles are always connected.

            As we each hope for different reasons, we will each have different circles in our lives. At times, I have felt that my wife is so invested in her circle of family that it comes at the expense of her self. As a result, it affects our relationship as husband and wife. This anxiety then permeates back through the system and may ultimately affect the family and communities that we associate with. This would only be true, however, if her circles were identical to my own circles. The same can be said for understanding any person’s circles of self or community. For some, community may only be a few select friends and work.  

I walk. I write. I speak. I believe. I live.

I walk as though I know where I am going, even though I have never been there before.

I write as though I know what I am talking about, but that could all change tomorrow.

I speak as though people should listen to what I have to say, even though my silence is often louder than words. 

I believe that each life is a story. We speak words with our actions. We write stories with our lives.

I live as though today might be my last day. And if my life did end today, I would want my story to be told.