For a while, about 10 years ago, I lived in a two-man tent set up on a concrete pad. Everything I owned was in the tent or in my truck.
The concrete pad was in southwest Texas, under the high tin roof of an old truck repair depot. The concrete was open air all the way around, with the roof about 25 feet above the deck. The depot had been taken over by a company I worked for. The company led hiking and canoeing tours in the Big Bend National Park area. I was there as an intern, working essentially for room and board. Shortly after I arrived, a freak hail storm caved in the roof over my room. Deciding I'd be more comfortable in the tent, I moved out.
I liked living in the tent. I didn't notice the stuff I was missing. It occurred to me at the time that I had overestimated what I needed to be happy. Food, shelter, long underwear, some books, and occasional good company seemed to be all I needed. I was thrilled to be spending time with the local genius, a guy who ran a private library; making adobe bricks for the park service (1 part hay, 1 part dirt, add Elmer's gule to taste); and occasionally helping a troupe of catholic school girls or adjudicated youth discover have a fun (or at least interesting) time out in the wilderness. My girlfirend, who later became my wife, wasn't thrilled with the tent, but we had a great time otherwise. Simple things, like walking into town for mexican food, were big deals to us.
At the end of that tenure, I had a choice to make. A space waited for me at law school. On the other hand, it would have been easy enough to scrap it all and stay in the tent. People I worked with had different opinions. Some tried to convince me that my altruistic streak could be satisfied through legal practice. Some thought I should stay, that I could become a really great wilderness educator. Eventually, I decided to go to law school. I figured I could always go back, that I would be a more effective public servant as a lawyer.
I graduated, I worked for the state, everything was going according to plan. I got married, moved a couple of times so my wife could further her education. Somewhere between stops I decided not to take public service jobs anymore. I got into commercial law, I started doing corporate work. I needed to make more money, to buy a house, to pay some medical bills. I picked up expensive hobbies, started getting my suits made, bought a fancy watch. I quit law to work with a client in finance.
I now live in a house nicer than any I grew up in, drive a new car. My wife has a great job. I have a new baby who has everything a kid could want. Yet, on a fundamental level, I wonder if I made the wrong choice. Had I chosen the other road, where would I be now? More than anything else, the decision to go to law school really changed the trajectory of my life. This time of year, with the push to CONSUME, to buy, to spend, it hits home that I became a consumer of the highest order, a buyer of all manner of consumer electronics and appliances just to make my life a bit easier, when it wasn't that hard to begin with. I certainly didn't envision myself here 10 years ago when I was sleeping in that tent. Of course, I also never thought there'd be a time that I didn't have to worry about cash, either, and I'm certainly not too sad about that. I wonder if, had I been able to see the future back then, if I'd be happy or sad about how things ended up.
The concrete pad was in southwest Texas, under the high tin roof of an old truck repair depot. The concrete was open air all the way around, with the roof about 25 feet above the deck. The depot had been taken over by a company I worked for. The company led hiking and canoeing tours in the Big Bend National Park area. I was there as an intern, working essentially for room and board. Shortly after I arrived, a freak hail storm caved in the roof over my room. Deciding I'd be more comfortable in the tent, I moved out.
I liked living in the tent. I didn't notice the stuff I was missing. It occurred to me at the time that I had overestimated what I needed to be happy. Food, shelter, long underwear, some books, and occasional good company seemed to be all I needed. I was thrilled to be spending time with the local genius, a guy who ran a private library; making adobe bricks for the park service (1 part hay, 1 part dirt, add Elmer's gule to taste); and occasionally helping a troupe of catholic school girls or adjudicated youth discover have a fun (or at least interesting) time out in the wilderness. My girlfirend, who later became my wife, wasn't thrilled with the tent, but we had a great time otherwise. Simple things, like walking into town for mexican food, were big deals to us.
At the end of that tenure, I had a choice to make. A space waited for me at law school. On the other hand, it would have been easy enough to scrap it all and stay in the tent. People I worked with had different opinions. Some tried to convince me that my altruistic streak could be satisfied through legal practice. Some thought I should stay, that I could become a really great wilderness educator. Eventually, I decided to go to law school. I figured I could always go back, that I would be a more effective public servant as a lawyer.
I graduated, I worked for the state, everything was going according to plan. I got married, moved a couple of times so my wife could further her education. Somewhere between stops I decided not to take public service jobs anymore. I got into commercial law, I started doing corporate work. I needed to make more money, to buy a house, to pay some medical bills. I picked up expensive hobbies, started getting my suits made, bought a fancy watch. I quit law to work with a client in finance.
I now live in a house nicer than any I grew up in, drive a new car. My wife has a great job. I have a new baby who has everything a kid could want. Yet, on a fundamental level, I wonder if I made the wrong choice. Had I chosen the other road, where would I be now? More than anything else, the decision to go to law school really changed the trajectory of my life. This time of year, with the push to CONSUME, to buy, to spend, it hits home that I became a consumer of the highest order, a buyer of all manner of consumer electronics and appliances just to make my life a bit easier, when it wasn't that hard to begin with. I certainly didn't envision myself here 10 years ago when I was sleeping in that tent. Of course, I also never thought there'd be a time that I didn't have to worry about cash, either, and I'm certainly not too sad about that. I wonder if, had I been able to see the future back then, if I'd be happy or sad about how things ended up.