Overwhelming Good

“Do you wish you had gone to Humboldt?” my mom asked.

I definitely had to think about it—I didn’t answer right away. It’s 10pm on Saturday night, my mom’s and my last night in Arcata, CA, where my brother Jesse attends Humboldt for Environmental Engineering. Arcata, far on the North Coast of California and deep in the heart of the Redwoods, is a world apart from my normal stomping grounds of Chicago and Los Angeles. People here in Arcata take the time to, well, appreciate life. It moves at a different pace, and a symbiosis between people and nature has formed here unlike in anywhere else in the world. And it’s easy for me—heck, it’s easy for anyone—to be jealous of my brother Jesse. I mean,

everybody lives vicariously through Jesse.
And with good reason! He’s hilarious (“funs are pun” I think is the most apt phrase to use here), funny (that’s redundant and repetitive), he’s got the looks (just ask the ladies), a disarming smile, charisma and charm that can’t be turned off, all the smoothest dance moves, and a near-perfect (albeit seemingly paradoxical) care-free responsibility that makes him at the same time always fun to be around and be someone you can always count on. His friends, his roommates, our parents, and even my friends and I have at some point lived vicariously through Jesse and his life here in Arcata.

Two evenings ago, Jesse brought me along to his friend’s house, where I had the privilege of joining a group of Lumberjacks in sitting around and playing music, singing country classics and Backstreet Boys, jiving to dance classics and making general merry. One girl led on guitar, playing any song requested sans music with perfect precision and gusto, while another occasionally picked up the harmonica to accompany. I fumbled through accompanying on the kazoo, and to my great joy and laughter I didn’t for one second ever feel an ounce of judgment or malaise (although I can attest from the cell phone videos I later watched that I was pretty terrible, especially during the dreaded-yet-outrageously-fun “kazoo solos”).

But as Kim rocked out on the intro to “I Want It That Way” on her guitar and Sarah flew across the harmonica on “Wagon Wheel”, I struggled with pangs of jealousy. Watching their harmonies slide in and out through their self-composed “Lonesome Tonight” made me think of my own guitars and harmonicas, sitting in my room in my apartment, gathering more dust than they ever should. I’ve always wanted to be able to play like they do; the ability to just pick up one of those instruments and instantly make it work with others is something I’ve wanted to be able to do since I watched my mom’s family do similarly when I could barely walk. But somehow I’ve never reached that point of mastery—not even close (I’m improving, but gosh is it slow)! I know there’s no lack of desire on my side, but time always seems to be on the other. I know I’m doing lots of productive and enriching things with my time…  I do my work for Northwestern, I’m continually engaged in Probity, I maintain relationships with my closest friends, I’m continuing my education and staying physically active, but the question remains… are those other things better?  What about all the other things I’ve wanted to do with my life at different points? Become a volunteer firefighter? Make a zip line? Join a new aikido/kendo dojo? Build my own computer? Learn to fix cars? (or even learn bagpipes!) Why am I not doing all of those when so many others are able to do them? Is what I’m doing better than those other things that I equally desire?

Jesse posed an interesting question last night. Do people conform to an environment, or do people mold their environment to match their identities? Which is the product of the other? I certainly didn’t have a definitive answer, but it got me thinking: If I had lived in Arcata, would I have been a skilled harmonica player? Perhaps I would have been the same as I was now, but I think there’s a huge likelihood that my involvements, activities, and motivations would have been entirely different had I spent the same time in a different environment (especially one as different as Arcata). My mom’s initial question digs deep. Thinking of what I could have been, isn’t that something I want? Do I really wish I had gone to Humboldt?

The implications of such a possibility run amok in my mind… Would I have been more like Jesse? Or would Jesse be different entirely, whether because of my presence or because he could have gone to an entirely different school? I can’t stand the thought of Jesse being anything other than how he is—I already idolize him in more than a few ways.

Thinking of these possibilities and jealousies and potential regrets makes me think of an earlier event in my cross-country trip—an unscheduled stop grace à broken fuel pump at my great Aunt Lydia’s house. Lydia recounted talking to a friend of hers who was upset over having multiple serious health problems and losing optimism. She told him, “Gratitude is an essential ingredient to happiness”. That made sense right away—like one of those “a-ha!” moments when something you read just clicks. Later in the conversation, she told me about one of the first real books she read: The Wisdom of Insecurity, by Alan Watts. The “wisdom of insecurity” as I understand it comes from points in life where one must make decisions. When one never wants to make or constantly fears making a mistake, it handicaps one’s ability to reach any sort of potential. Likewise, if one is overconfident in every decision, one will constantly struggle from the unintended consequences of his actions. The healthy point of balance is where one is unsure with his answer, not to the point of inability, but at a place where one can keep an open mind, and a willingness to learn and grow and improve.

So where does that leave us?

My environment affects me, and I affect it. There are certain qualities I’ll have no matter where I am, and maybe I even mold a few people around me. At the same time, much of what I choose to do is as a result of the people and environment around me (I suppose I can’t spend my days hanging out at the marsh watching birds when the nearest marsh is several hundred miles away at least). Am I unhappy I ended up in Chicago? Not at all. I’m thankful for the opportunities Chicago and LA have given me.

Sometimes I do wish I had ended up in Arcata. But I’m not upset about it. It just keeps me thinking about new ways to grow and improve, about how I could have ended up being and how I can improve myself where I am, and where I should go to continue to improve.

And, regardless of all the other questions, I am definitely grateful for Jesse. He’s an essential ingredient. I’m happy where I am.