Your Heart, Part 2

Something about my last blog seemed to strike a chord with a bunch of you all. Maybe it was the snow, or the skiing, or maybe there's lots of you that need recharged once in a while, just like I do. Or maybe it was writing about the heart. Not the muscle, but the imaginary container that contains the topnotch secrets of who we are and who we were meant to be. Recognizing that it's still there. Recognizing that no matter how deep it's buried, that therein is the secret of life, the wellspring that needs looked after, cleaned up and flushed out. Whatever it was, I thought I'd go back there this week.

If you're reading this with the hope of learning how to become a better glass blower or a better hunter or backpacker, well, good luck. You’d probably do better by scrolling on by. On the other hand, I hope that what I'm writing might help to bring life to whatever those passions are. 

The heart is worth taking time for, thinking about, and even writing about. If there's one thing that I've learned over the years, it's that there's this constant battle inside, and it's all aimed at our hearts. Even though I recognize it, I don't do so well at taking sides with my heart, and oftentimes I find myself siding with the things that squelch the fire instead of giving it the fuel that it needs for some vibrant life.

For some of you, the thought of having a vibrant life sounds selfish, uncaring, and self-centered, like it's all about “me”. I get it. I struggle with that too. When I give in and believe it, it holds me back and pushes me into the mold of being what everyone else wants me to be. The importance of what I do is suddenly based on what everyone else thinks.Trust me, it's a real battle!

To keep me on the right side of the fight, let me start by saying that I believe that God created all of us for a greater purpose than just making ourselves happy. Or even just making someone else happy. That purpose is hard to find. It's a mystery we dream and wonder about, but the clues are so subtle, so buried, that it's so much easier to write them off in order to focus on living instead of focusing on what we are living for. 

Even though it's often deeper than that thought or guilt of being selfish, there's often this twinge of excitement and adrenaline that has us believing, if only for a second, that we could be so much more than we are. Most of the time we push it down, hold it in, and keep it a secret. That inkling of a compressed thought that says that we were created in such a way that our personality and what flows out of our hearts is how God leads us,  how he puts us in the places that he wants us, only gets buried deeper and deeper. We do those things that are expected of us, and we turn out to be healthy, wealthy and wise, and empty.

Most of us started out on the right foot, exploring in the backyard, heading into the wilderness of our imaginations and hacking out the perfect homestead, and then, at the end of the day drifting off into the most solid sleep that was only interrupted by dreaming of doing it all over again tomorrow. Or reading books that painted a dream for us. 

For me it was Jim Kjelgaards book “Stormy”. It was a story about a stray dog and a boy that lived in a cabin by himself because his dad was doing time in prison. With the dog as his companion, he trapped and hunted and guided duck hunters until his dad came back home. It so painted the picture of who I wanted to be when I grew up. Oh the joys of childhood! 

But most of us were convinced quickly that those were only dreams. I remember that moment for me. Our teacher was asking what career we wanted when we grew up. Turns out that running a trapline wasn't a good option at all. Or being a hunter. Or hacking a living out of the wilderness. I was dejected to say the least! “You will never make a living doing that”. Those words stung! But I wasn't totally convinced and spent my childhood up into my twenties trapping coons, foxes and possums and thinking that maybe a “long liner” was something that I might become. There were enough good  books and magazines out there that let me know that my teacher wasn't totally correct, but on the other side were so many more voices that agreed with my teacher. Growing up I honestly didn't know what I wanted to be other than the outdoorsy things that I was told I couldn't be. And I still don't.

Sometimes I still dream wild and big. Ideas that seem unattainable. It's the same for all of us. But are they really unattainable? And even if they are, by not entertaining them, do we lose sight of the path we were meant to follow? 

When I look back, I'm thankful for the dream that Jim Kjelgaard gave me all of those years ago. Probably even more thankful for that than my education. On the other hand I would never have read the book if I couldn't read. And so there's a balance. I needed both.

I really like making things. Almost anything and everything. It's what I do for a living. It's part of who I am. But if I had to choose between spending time in the woods or even time watching the birds out of the window versus time in the shop, most of the time I'd choose the woods. But I know that sometimes I need to choose the shop. Knowing that is where the secret lies. The wellspring of life. Right there in the middle. You have to guard it. Fight for it. You probably won't get a lot of help from society. For the most part the world and your brain is saying things like, “be successful, be productive, be efficient, do what makes money, you'll have time for vacation, that's what brings happiness”. And so your brain and your heart are fighting against each other, again! They say that efficiency is the enemy of creativity. 

And there's probably a lot of truth to that.

But does it need to be? 

Efficiency always equals more. Most often we use it to make more wealth and prosperity. We're fooled into thinking that wealth equals happiness. And so we work harder and focus on our hearts less, or maybe even bury those dreams altogether.

I will argue that if we use efficiency to give us more time to dig deep into our hearts and follow the path we were meant to walk, then efficiency can be a good thing. The dream isn't the path, nor is the money, or the time. Those are just the little steps to help us along the way.

Right now I'm struggling. It's a perfect morning for writing. Twenty two degrees outside and sunny. The house is quiet except for Kodas heavy breathing as she lays on the floor and lets the sun permeate her black fur. She's pretty much the bum on the beach, perfectly content with just being and breathing. Occasionally her tail thumps in her sleep while she's dreaming some unknown puppy dream. I'm a slow writer and a cup of tea would be nice, especially on those pauses while I'm looking out the window and thinking, figuring out that next line. But there's a touch of guilt on my shoulders, that has me anxiously trying to write faster. I started the heater in the garage an hour ago. I should be out there working. I have a half dozen fish out there that I need to carve bases for. Not only is it living a part of my dream, but it's what keeps groceries on our table. But I feel like I need to keep writing. I'm in the groove and I feel like that's part of what I was meant to do and be also. The guilt comes to me in my mind. It's subtle, but it tells me that writing is a waste of time. Even though I feel like it's something I'm supposed to do, it's not paying my bills. I keep writing for a bit longer but not much. I better finish this later.

For me, that's often the way it goes. It's the same thing when I'm hunting. Or when I'm playing in the garden. I hear that little voice in my brain that says if I took all of the time and money that I put into hunting, I could probably buy enough food to feed a small community. Plus I'd have more time to get things done around the house. But I like to hunt. I like playing in the dirt. I'm pretty certain that it's part of the purpose and the plan. It shows me a bit of the little secret of my heart that I don't want others to know about. Not so much that I like to hunt and fish and wander around in the woods, but the fact that it puts me in community with other like minded people that I feel like I was meant to be an encouragement too. And it gives me something to write about. I think it's what I was meant for. It's really tough sometimes, putting my heart out there for the whole world to see. 

So I hunt, and I fish, and I make things. It's what I like to do. And through that I share my stories, hoping that someone is encouraged. It's what brings joy to every step. It isn't always easy, and figuring it out is even harder.

I'll wrap this up by putting it on you. Dig deep. Guard your heart! You'll find it! You were created for a purpose!