One Year Later

It feels like a moderately momentous occasion: one year ago, nearly to the day, I walked away from a well-established career path. And, it’s time to say goodbye to Mountain Cloud (in this chapter) after three months of residency and intensive study and practice. An interesting confluence of timelines.

Hard to believe it’s been 12 months since I hurled myself off the corporate ladder, eschewing stability, financial ease, status, and a ‘promising future’ (a future I had no desire of living into). Despite the outward appearance of ‘successful' circumstances, I just couldn’t shake the feeling that these circumstances were the result of somebody else’s ambition and values, resulting in deep existential angst about how this precious time was being spent.

The year has not been a linear journey toward peace and contentment; far from it. Nor would it have been interesting had that been the case. When I stepped away from the well-trodden path, I was intent on discovering what it meant to fully ‘live into life.’ I’m not certain from where I picked up that notion (perhaps there’s a hint of originality within it), but at its core is the desire to collapse the psychological future that we project ourselves into, and is itself what creates a contracted present. Perhaps that sounds odd; it is indeed a little mystical, meaning it’s a knowing that is experiential.

Because of the newfound flexibility in schedule post-quit, and a supremely supportive partner (I was having a hard time living with myself and it certainly wasn’t a joy for her either!), I was able to get out into the world. Skipping over a series of ‘doings’ in the first six months or so, I managed to track down disappointment in all of them (it’s a skill). Then, being back in Detroit, interviewing for jobs I didn’t want, trying to get back on the ladder I had kicked over, I felt deep regret, shame, and despair. Is this what I meant by living into life?!

A turning point was the crystallization of my own values—the recognition of my own deeper priorities to help guide the journey. I’ve written about this before but without the specifics. For me, the values of curiosity, creativity, compassion, and community emerged (that they all start with ‘c’ is coincidental). Compassion led me into hospice care, which was profoundly impactful. Creativity got me back into this project, among other pursuits and interests. And curiosity and community ultimately brought me out to Mountain Cloud Zen Center. Although this time, too, has had its phases of doubt and contraction (I’m making peace with those being constant companions through life), it’s been an incredible period of expansion. Here, I found what it can feel like to truly live into life.

A few learnings/insights revealed or galvanized by this experience (to be expanded upon another time):

• how impoverished life would be if it went according to how we think it should

• the juice of life is in service

• our fiercely independent, go-it-alone culture has robbed us of the joys, benefits, and challenges of being within community

• constraint breeds/necessitates creativity and an openness to support and assistance that leads to unanticipated and interesting circumstances

• trading existential dread for practical challenge is deeply rewarding

• the joys of simplicity

• placing our attention of the ‘right’ things (whatever that may be for each of us)

• our small sphere of influence can have substantial ripple effects

• we all have a fulfilling pathless path to be revealed through our own unique journey

• the universal value of following our curiosity

Recently, I’ve considered two significant events in my set of life circumstances: 1) mustering the courage to approach Kayla on a fateful evening in Ann Arbor; and 2) coming to Mountain Cloud. As I say goodbye to this place, it is less of a conclusion and more of a hiatus or interlude. I’m heading back to Detroit for a few weeks to help us move out of a residence, followed by a return west. How interesting life can be. So curious to see how it continues to unfold. My limited view of what it might look like isn’t big enough for a life well lived.