Life’s not a straight line, is it?
It’s a dotted, dashed, curvy, swervy line that vanishes and appears elsewhere, far away. You wonder how you arrived and if you’re in a Richard Feynman experiment proving simultaneous location.
I’ve wandered, jumped elsewhere, pulsated nearby.
I was born and raised in Michigan, went east for college, and worked in Massachusetts government. I dashed to California for business school, where I met my husband, my perfect opposite (he stays put) and inimitable playmate. We were young and serious. I worked in consulting, he in investing.
Then I felt the call of the universe—a deep, aching longing for a tree-edged horizon. Endless space.
I quit my job and put heel to toe across the U.S. on the Appalachian Trail. My husband stayed put in our apartment and, to my everlasting delight, in our marriage. I sought the universe.
Life doesn’t share secrets, does it?
Wisdom appears slowly from a lifetime of caring, noticing, and being awake and connected.
After my hike—for a long time after—I was uselessly depressed and achy for bed. We moved to London. We adopted cats. I wrote while looking for work. Mostly from bed.
Life brings wisdom, pleasures, and deep moments of loneliness. Not solitude but isolation. Do you ever feel you’re surrounded by people yet completely alone?
I’m not alone in feeling alone.
The Examined Life is about connecting. (I’m a terrible introvert and this is my best medium). I collect wisdom. I extend my warm, generous self so you’ll feel something.
None of us are alone in our fears, beliefs, reasons, lives—we are all part of humanity. Is that the eternal?
Let’s find out.