Be A Little Weirdo

I was really quiet all summer…

Living at 7,500 feet in the Big Horn Mountains of Wyoming, I lost the urge to tell everybody about everything, to create content, build the brand and blah blah blah.

We’re drowning in content.

I want art.

I also want to live in a way my nervous system understands - to get out of this endless fight or flight and excuse myself from the world that says there’s only one way.

There are lots of ways.

Watching campfires burn down. Breathing river air as trees on their banks turn gold. Getting to know new horses and new people, learning what we all need to thrive.

Then doing it.

I made a few notes.

1. Our brains are tired of making sense of life - overwhelmed.

Israel/Palestine. Ukraine. Kendall Jenner. Elections. Racism. Homophobia. Black Friday. Retributive violence. Inflation. That’s why I think people sigh when I tell them I rode my horse every day in the mountains after work. That I was sometimes bored, alone with my thoughts, in the forest. That I watched August’s giant full moon rise like a wildfire over the ridge, while owls hooted across the valley.

Humans have been doing those things for millennia, our brains don’t have to work to make sense of it. It’s natural, calm.

2. We are responsible for the lives we create.

I’m a life and performance coach and if you want to set me off, say to me with snark, “Oh it must be nice to go to Wyoming for the whole summer.” That statement implies two things:

1. It was luck that allowed for it, not six years of intention, effort, persistence, sacrifice and adaptation. We chose to live like this, and no part of it was easy, cheap or guaranteed.

2. That you are unable to make a similar choice. If you want something badly enough, you’ll find a way - even with kids, jobs and commitments. So many of us are overfed, overstimulated and dying of boredom in lives we insist we can’t change.

But change is always possible, especially in a culture of choice like the US mostly still is. Yes, privilege is real and it’s harder for some than others, but where there’s a will there’s a way. Perhaps we’ve forgotten how to be scrappy and sacrificial; how to deal well with uncertainty and fear.

3. The planet needs us to fall back in love with her - asap.

We’ve disconnected from the planet that sustains us, so it’s easier to believe her needs are opaque. They’re not. We protect what we love. I said a million times in vast, empty Wyoming, “it’s amazing what nature does when we leave her alone.”

Maybe by extension we’ve disconnected from the Creator of all this too.

I am a faulty-follower of Jesus, YHWH and the Holy Spirit. There is nowhere I talk with Them more easily than next to a river, under falling leaves, in silence. Many of you feel the same saying, “nature is my church.” Yes, of course it is.

When’s the last time you went?

4. Here’s a list of easy things our brains recognize.

Perhaps the overwhelm is too much and you dream of becoming a hermit, or burning it all down and running off to Iceland. Here are a few things to try first:

Cooking slow food with/for others.
Making bread.
Sitting by a fire.
Making or enjoying live music.
Hiking.
Ice cream.
Sitting in silence.
Deliberate breathing.
Singing with others.
Bare feet in the grass.
Watching clouds.
Watching stars.
Hugging.
Giving time to others.
Giving money to others.
Praying.
Meditating.
Long vistas.
Walking.
Stretching.
Being grateful.

That’s hardly an exhaustive list. Maybe pick one and incorporate it into your life in lieu of scrolling. Late-stage Capitalism wants you to believe you’re stuck, because it makes you a better consumer. You can opt-out of fight or flight, you know, and live like a little weirdo without an iPhone15.

Be deliberate. Start small. It’s all going to be ok.