between the silence
before birth
and the silence
after death
...
are the days
we string up
one after another
waking, quickly going
tasking, then returning
...
i really don't understand
why we move so much
why it's hard to be still
what exactly we think we are doing
...
what are we doing?
the constraints of a life...
only so many things you can do
within an hour, a day, a season, a year
if you choose well, it's balanced.
you feel alive, and connected
to both people and a purpose.
The world may respond more enthusiastically to some of your offerings than to others.
I've pursued paths and had doors close, close, close.
Other times alignment felt magical, and doors opened.
In 2015 when I left New Jersey, I applied for a timberframing apprenticeship, and did not get in. I went to a timberframing workshop, got violently ill, and had to leave. I was introduced to a timber framing mentor, and went out to work with him on a rural property, but things got weird and I chose to leave. I loved the idea of timberframing, but ultimately I realized it just wasn't working for me. But all the timber framing experiences have informed my furniture making.
I moved to Portland Oregon for a month, joined a woodworking maker space, and made furniture. I made up a residency program that was exactly what I needed at the time.
I let go of timberframing, but opportunities to learn housebuilding skills continued to open up. Workaway.com provided 2 weeks of learning basic wiring, which I was able to apply at another workaway stay. I traveled with my van and tools and made friends in the valley where I'd ultimately settle. I helped a friend build a cabin and learned the basics of conventional framing.
I'd tried to escape teaching, but a teaching job opened up and I took it. The stability and income enabled me to buy a property and build, first a shed, and then my own house.
...
Now that I am living in the house, I'm curious which doors will open and which will close for me, as I look to my next chapters.
My teaching position connects me with other teachers, whose wide-ranging experiences and backgrounds open up my perspective. My students connect me to this community via the experiences they share. I see the many ways teaching grounds me and supports my life.
But making things, and design! I love materials, and tangible, humble, practical objects. Will it be furniture, houses, or something else? Is this a new career, or a side hustle?
Two ways to navigate forward. One is to listen to my heart. The other is to watch for doors that close, and doors that open.
...
Today, I choose: to spend the afternoon creating my woodworking space.
...isn't to be perfect
it's to figure out
who you are
how to be you
and how to be part of things.
To do so kindly, authentically
quirkily, honestly
humbly, and with a certain
pride
in the unique notes
you bring
to your community
Age fifty approaches. I find flashes of overwhelm, with my things, my tasks, the impossibility of victory over life. Entropy gains on me.
Yes - I teach my classes, I do laundry, cook meals, see friends. I do the things I'm expected to, even appear moderately succesful. Exercise, bathe and dress, do my hair. Vitamins, vegetables, doctor visits.
Yet the realization dawns: health problems will increase. Exposure to injury and harm is unavoidable.
Somehow, accepting this: that I will ultimately lose the battle with entropy, that I'll succomb to whatever kills me, that I'll sink into the earth sooner or later, it's a relief. I'm trying to stay on top, but it's to be expected that I'll eventually fail. Which is how it's supposed to be.
Today I can keep things simple, stay closer to the soil. When it's time, I will more easily slip beneath it. I'll let go of my affairs; the creatures and beings that come after me will carry life forward.