As a born and bred American, I think I have a f*cked up relationship to ambition. Societal cues have encouraged me to work hard, buy more, upsize, and above all, to dream and strive for ever-better.
Sound familiar?
While I can identify it, I haven’t rid myself of this conditioning. Actually, I accept and enjoy consumerism and even maybe a stroke of hedonism as part of what I enjoy in life. Listen: I love – like, love – a nice hotel. Give me a thoughtfully designed room, a good shower, and a bathrobe and I will giddily sit amidst a pile of pillows watching whatever’s on TV. I relish in occasionally dropping a small fortune on an excellent meal out.
You get the picture. But, also, I live in a 19′ foot trailer. I just took a shower for the first time in three days after boondocking out of the back of my truck over the weekend. I am scrupulously and at times painfully aware of my husband’s/my income, since it varies so wildly. We are at this point adept at reigning in our spending. So, while I enjoy the extravagances money can buy, my life is not about maximizing my income to afford more. I’m better set up for what brings me the greatest joy and fulfillment: being outdoors, and painting/writing about it.
Yet. All that being said, it can still be hard for me not to tip into the “what if’s” of wanting more.
Wes and I just spent the weekend on an exploratory trip to see parcels of land for sale in the region. Our long-term plan is to eventually buy some land that either has a (small) structure on it already, or to build something. Recently we’ve both had some stars in our eyes imagining buying land as soon as this spring so we have a place to be next winter that’s ours.
This weekend provided a reality check. As we looked at parcels, we realized our plan and potentially quick timeline could be unreasonable due to many factors – price, county restrictions on the length of time we could live in our Airstream on land, subdivision restrictions, some that outright ban RVs, available utilities or cost/timeline to install (water, septic, electric), or covenants that require you to get to building within a certain period of time. We spent the weekend feeling deflated, drilled in further by really enjoying some of the region we were witnessing and feeling somehow that it’s out of our reach.
As we lay in our tent at night with the full moon arcing its way brilliantly across the sky, I laid awake feeling a grasping sense. There it was: that striving creeping in. I began focusing on what I do not have. I started questioning our entire existence of right now, which is something we worked – and strived – very very hard to bring about.
The thoughts festered: did we make a huge mistake in selling our house? Why don’t we have enough to be able to afford the land we like? What would we have to do in order to build a home within xyz covenant’s requirements? Are we going to live like this – seasonally, moving around – forever, because of the decisions we’ve made?
Pleasant little spiral, right? No.
Ambition is so good for helping me live my life to its fullest. At its best, it helps me see what I love most in this life and make space for more of that. But at its worst, it eclipses today thinking tomorrow could be that much better “if only”.
On the final morning of our weekend, we sat on our truck’s tailgate drinking coffee in a lovely, warming desert sun. We had real talk: given everything we’ve seen and learned this weekend, what do we do? Do we throw our towels in, sign up for a big ol’ bank loan, and go back to full time jobs and salaries? Basically pull a 180? Our answer, of course, is no.
To remain present, we have to mentally reconfigure so that yearning doesn’t poison right now.
We decided to reign in and manage our “land dream” by setting some discrete next steps and check in points. We made a Google Doc list of parameters for what we’re looking for informed, helpfully, by what we’d learned over the weekend. We decided to look into enlisting help from a realtor(s). We set up a system for periodically checking in on various properties and search parameters, and to prioritize checking out various places in person to get a sense of what we like.
When we find the right place for us, we’ll go for it. Maybe that’s this coming winter? But likely not. We have to reconfigure in order to trust that we’ll find the right thing for us at the right time.
And, to pull me back in to this moment and this phase of life – the living in the Mobile Art Studio, prioritizing flexibility and freedom of time over steady income – I’m basically doing some self-parenting and instituting a daily gratitude practice. Even having one day of this has helped re-ground me.
The creosote smells amazing. Our dinner last night was delicious. I enjoyed some time in the shade in the afternoon, feeling a warm breeze on my skin and listening to birds. Today I get to put in a full day of painting at the easel. I’m grateful for all the things my body can do. Etc.
Striving threatens to rob me of these and many other moments. The trick is to have enough of it to press me into continually creating the life I want to inhabit, without sabotaging right now.
I hope this sounds familiar to you in your life. I share it, even feeling pretty raw, because it’s the first true spike I’ve experienced in questioning this life choice we made, at all, and then talking myself back down. I suspect that’s pretty normal. Many of us work hard to bring about a much needed change, relish in its novelty at first, and then find that there is yet more to do on that other side.
The big question is really, how to live a life in which we can improve it but also enjoy it right now? I welcome aha’s and advice!