John Steinbeck is my hero because he retrofitted an old truck with living quarters, named it Rocinate (after Don Quixote?s beloved horse), packed up his French poodle Charley and hit the road to find America. Mr. Steinbeck was a gifted observer, of course, but he never saw the fruits of this journey (the classic Travels with Charley) as anything more than a vehicle ? quite literally ? for his wandering spirit.
?Once a bum, always a bum,? he said.
Great writing, like great living, involves the ability to be still and watch. If never cultivated, we become unwitting participants in some drama that happens to us. When we learn to stay still and just observe, abundant wisdom bubbles to the surface. Our culture does not support the notion of sitting still, or being anything other than ?productive.? Steinbeck, like yours truly, deeply believed in the counterpoint to the sanctified American work ethic: ?Don?t just do something. Sit there.? But we rush around like headless chickens, making, buying, selling, spending and never learning to be watchful.
Here?s a strange concept: our notions of ?hard work? and achievement are highly overrated and there is an abiding virtue in being a bum. Now, settle down. I?m not talking about a down-on-your-luck bum, or the bum who?s on the government dole and spends his days smoking crack. I?m talking about a bum by choice, a good citizen bum who meets his or her responsibilities to family and community but remains unattached to the unquestioned allegiance to status, career, and income. Although I?ve jumped on the achievement bandwagon myself ? becoming a teacher, a lawyer, and a writer ? I surely can?t extol any greatness in all that damn work. My true Self is, well, a bum and recently after completing my obligation to get three kids through high school and launched into self-sufficiency (nearly) I gave in to the free spirit in me, chucked everything and became not only a bum but a cowgirl.
As a tree-climbing six year old I remember holding the sticky trunk of a pine tree and staring out at the grown-up world thinking, ?That doesn?t look like fun.? And let?s face it; it?s not. The American obsession with labor and achievement is an illness that has created illness. Of course we are sick, fat, lost. Hard work is boring, friends; two four-letter words that only spell exhaustion. I achieved a law degree to make my stern and distant father happy and I can tell you unequivocally that ?achievement? in this worldly sense is empty. How many people do you know who just hate their jobs? I know a highly successful surgeon, safely ensconced in his trophy home, who has daydreams about being homeless.
?I know exactly what I?d do,? he says while his second wife is in the state-of-the-art kitchen pouring Perrier, ?I?d go into restaurants and order food and then leave. I?d have a basic backpack for living.?
His eyes glaze over with the simplicity of this scene. But with an extravagant lifestyle and several mortgages, my doctor friend will probably never be a bum.
We are terrified about the epidemic of laziness in our youth. There?s quite a difference, of course, between being lazy and being a bum. When we plop our toddlers in front of the TV ? a precursor to their teenage video addictions ? or when we schedule our children like little CEOs we never give them a chance to wander around, explore their world, or sit in silence. Good middle-class Americans push their kids into college where they drink their way through freshman year and get some kind of degree eventually, if they?re lucky. Why are we dismayed by this? It is our own doing. We have cultivated laziness because it fits our schedule. It?s much easier to push a kid blindly towards ?achievement? than to take him out into the wilderness for five days to listen for the coyotes or smell the wet pine. Deep interaction with nature slows us down because nature takes its time. Chronic restlessness and addiction to activity and productivity makes contact with the wilderness untenable for most. And wandering is unthinkable.
After faking my way through the conventional achievement road, the Mommy Track and PTA meetings, I finally gave in to my basic bum-dom and sold everything, moved to the Rocky Mountains. I moved to a one-room cabin in the middle-of-nowhere, Colorado, on a ranch with 50 horses and worked with my partner helping people have fun in the mountains. We?d ride horses, hike, rock climb, and raft. I spend lots of time like a dog ? just wandering around looking at stuff. Like Charley and his beloved master, I?m a bum, and I couldn?t be in better company. It?s a strange philosophy, this, that there?s little value in traditional ideas about achievement but this I believe: we are born to wander, not achieve; wired to love and explore this sad and gorgeous world. I?ve made the journey from attorney and soccer mom to cowgirl and I?m here to tell you that life in the saddle ? slow and simple ? is richer and better than I ever imagined on any given day in court. If you are a free spirit like me, why, come on out and play, sit in the woods and watch the sun move through the sky. It?s infinitely more rewarding than money and best of all, being a bum is not hard work.
Related posts:
- When God Consciousness Becomes a Non-Negotiable
- Heavy Spirit, Heavy Soul
- The Number One Book Of Success
- Acknowledge Yourself
- Business Goals
Source: http://www.toppageinfoblog.info/selfimprovement/the-virtues-of-being-a-bum/
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