The most beautiful trees are those deep-rooted, grand and beautiful in their maturity, stable and grounded in the winds of a storm. May we become like those trees, and not be yet another transplant in need of beams and stakes, so that in time, we will bear the most fruit, provide the most shade, and at its close, paint a most abundant picture of life.
Thoughts
For as far back as any of us can remember, Americans have done one thing very consistently across their lifetimes: they move. Now more than ever, Americans are moving. Despite research suggesting that close to 90% of those movers exhibit move-related regret, it doesn't seem to change the overall trend. Counting myself as no exception, I've always thought rather little of the place I was in relative to the places that I could go to.
The data reveals that Americans move on average 11.7 times in their life. While this does include local moves, even if we half that number (and round down!) the notion of moving frequently is--at least to me--a bit startling. It begs the question: Why?
What is making us so motivated to move?
The reasons that people move are many. They could be family related, they could be tax or even politically motivated. In a post-covid, remote-work-heavy era that we're in now, it seems that many moves are initiated from a heart of desire: one that says, "I want to be there, not here." The most common, I suppose, has to be a function of economic calculations. For it is hard to escape one of our chief motivators: money.
On a January afternoon in 1848, James W. Marshall found gold at Sutter's Mill in Coloma, Calfiornia. The next 6 years would be codified in history as The Gold Rush for the not-yet-then State of California. San Franciso would boom from a settlement of 200 to a town of over 36,000 in the time. 300,000+ people would come by land and sea to get their share of this incredible injection into the American economy. Risking life and limb to get a hand in the proverbial honeypot, this era rapidly accelerated American industry and the economy as a whole. We would even go on to commemorate some of these very folks by naming a 2024-super-bowl-contending football team after them.
"The Gold Rush" serves as a tidy example for my thoughts here. A significant portion of the population uprooted everything to go and increase their material wealth. The potential of gold to be found was enough for them to brave the Indian-inhabited plains by wagon or pack into the cargo hold of a ship across the vicious pacific to work hard physical labor for the prospect of untold wealth. Today, we are not all that different. The Silicon Valley area has been the mecca for tech entrepreneurs and associated industries for the last decade. Aspiring actors still flee to LA. Music artists to Nashville. Frat bros in fresh patagonia sweater vests to south Manhattan. In all these years, we haven’t stopped chasing a strategy that says: if we place economic success atop our value system, then we will be able to experience the most success and thus live the most satisfying life.
But what if we explored a way of life counter to that approach? What if we decided to allow a higher concept of richness to pervade and inform us, leading to a different way of making decisions about what we do as well as where and how we live?
If we question these existing notions of what "successful living" really looks like, and re-evaluate the impact that rather unconvential success markers have on our overall health, wellbeing and quality of life, then we might experience a life unlike anything we imagined. One to the full. One that is characterized by rich and deep connections to people and places, one that brings us higher satisfaction than we thought possible.
There are two primary benefits to this approach. The first is the social benefit of deep and rooted communal living. This is a life where generations reside in the same place. Whether that be twenty minutes away, down the street or next door needs not make much of a difference. The second benefit is the sneaky way that this approach unlocks economic mobility in a surprising way.
Multi-generational, communal life
The there must be something in the water joke is wearing thin in my own community, where you cannot look around without seeing new life making its way via a mother's belly or in small shoes running around sneaking sweets. It's a delightful and beautiful time (which I'm sure are not the words used by all of the ones directly responsible, but I'd be hard pressed to imagine they wouldn't call it that in a moment of quiet reflection).
With all of these children, both new and very young, I think about the phrase, it takes a village rather often. This originates from an African proverb, where ancient tribal living was in fact deeply communal by its very nature, and was so in the interest of survival more than it was in the interest of anyones preferences. This is an environment where everyone who is a community member takes on a role in caring for children. Parents, siblings, extended family, teachers, professionals etc. all play their part, creating a space where children are safe, secure, and able to flourish.
Now to be realistic, we can remove local professionals and even (most of) your neighbors from the discussion, speaking now only of your family--both immediate and extended--and your close friends. This group is your modern-day tribe. This is the collection of aged wisdom, playful energy, and strong abilities that needs to be leveraged in the cultivation of our lives. This is your community, from where your culture will emanate, where you will be formed into more loving, more giving, more vulnerable and more honest people.
While the adage specifically refers to the rearing of young children, I like to suspend the notion of strictly chronological application and suggest that “it takes a village” is applicable to every age and stage of human life.
It takes a village to start and raise a family.
It takes a village to grow up and learn how the world works as well as how to relate to others in it.
It takes a village to feel supported away from home for educational and adventurous pursuits.
It takes a village to offer the deep and intimate friendship that people need to succeed socially.
It takes a village to advise and mentor newly married couples.
It takes a village to support and sustain community members falling on hard times.
It takes a village to care for the elderly and give respite to their caretakers.
We never really stop needing the village. But what we so often do is leave a village behind just as it's maturing enough to really start supporting us. When we look beyond our narrow obsession of independence & self-sustenance, we might just unseat our pride and experience a richness of being known, loved and supported by a community that we never imagined was possible. The village helps raise our children just as much as it tends to our needs both seen and unseen.
A convenient side effect
An additional benefit to this approach comes in the form of a roundabout economic argument. As we will rightly address, so many of these moves come as a result of pursuing economic gain. Making more money because of having an additional child. Making more money because it means getting that much closer to the step of the corporate ladder that's always been dreamed of. Making more money to simply expand the collection of space and things we have that we might be "more satisfied" by finer furnishings and additional square footage.
But what if we could actually realize some economic gain by taking a community-centric approach to our life decisions?
As a product of a many-moves household, I am all too familiar with starting and restarting communities. (Let me tell you, it's exhausting, and my ears and shoulders are open for any listening or crying that needs done if you're going through it). And as I was raised in this culture, I've never really thought twice about living in separate parts of the country as my own family. My mother resides in Michigan, my brother in New York City, and my sister in Florida. I live in Florida now, too, but was "in between" everyone in Pittsburgh for a time as well. It's a convenient life--everyone gets to be where they want to be, in the climate they prefer, working the job they want to, existing with some people that see the world the same way as them.
However, whenever a "family" event comes up, a burden arises also. We must all assess our resources to affix travel in our schedules and empty our pocketbooks at the feet of insert-airline-name-here. Should we be traveling to a neutral site, we now have to coordinate and acquire lodging and transportation as well. Now stay with me, imagine for just a moment that we all lived in proximity to one another? That we gathered periodically, to the point that everyone being together in one place wasn't really such a big deal.
Suddenly, instead of having a phantom obligation to set aside Paid Time Off as well as discretionary dollars, I have time and money to take the particular vacations I want to or go on the golf trip with my friends that I otherwise couldn't afford. By making the sacrifice of some of my wants and desires (like preferred climate, metro area, etc.) I get to reap the benefits of communal living and I experience a boost in my free cashflow.
There are so many non-material dimensions to wealth. Our current situation finds us making lots of decisions based solely on the numbers that show up in our checking accounts every other Friday. But how much is it worth to be unburdened from feelings of guilt and obligation surrounding family trips and holidays? How much is it worth to ameliorate some of the residual loneliness that we have sitting dormant in corners of our hearts?
Disadvantages
To fairly evaluate this idea we must also look at what the disadvantages might be. And while I don't pretend to diminish any of them, I think upon analysis they hold little weight when factored into a truly meaningful life. But, as with this entire idea, a significant reframing and redefining of what that really means is necessary.
Saying no to the raise
The primary risk of pursuing this community-first lifestyle is the argument that's likely top of mind: What if relocating could significantly move the needle on your finances? What if the only way to make partner is to be in one of the firm's primary hubs? And what if those are considered simply "necessary evils" of having to provide for your growing family? I believe that these are all valid questions. Though I still suggest that an adherence to a value system that places social wellbeing above the figures on the paycheck leads ultimately to a more fulfilling lifespan on earth. If that promotion moves your child out of a school system and community that they are ingrained in, is it truly for their benefit that the family relocates? Or does it benefit them via a material avenue that arises as a function of the new job?
Earlier this year I talked about using the principle of subtraction as a starting point rather than addition. It was in the context of "life," generally speaking, and how we're better off minimizing our things and commitments than we are adding to them. You'll position yourself to succeed more so by removing some prior commitments to instill that new habit, rather than just trying to tack an additional practice onto your already-time-strangled routine.
Where you want to be
An additional downside is one that hits close to home for all of us: putting aside what we want for the good of others. Maybe the place your community is rooted is not where you want to be. It may not contain the access or the vistas that you dream about, nor afford you the opportunities to engage in the particular activities or pastimes that you really would enjoy. This, I believe, is a reasonable qualm. For if we are talking about a holistic approach to wellbeing, and these deep relational roots and human connection aren’t filling your cup, leaving you miserable to the deepest and darkest points of depression, then yes, it might be time to consider a move. But for the most part, I feel as though people move places on very small whims because it suits their preferences a little more closely than their current environment does. And because as a culture we live in the technological illusion of hyper-connectedness despite our geographic distances, no one bats an eye.
No Resets
Finally the down side of prioritizing community is that you are not offered too many opportunities at a social reset under the guise of newness and the anonymity that comes with it. You are a bit "locked in" as it were to the relationships, experiences, memories, mistakes, hurts and healed wounds should you choose to stay firmly planted over time. This ends up an inevitability, a guaranteed byproduct of participation in deep community. And while a "fresh start" may seem like a welcome avenue to release yourself from some of those ties, those risks will remain persistent as your "fresh start" grows into experienced community of its own.
But being in community like that: known, vulnerable, wounded and healed, is part of what makes the experience so deeply fulfilling. It's bringing your authentic self to others and them doing the same. It's experiencing the friction of sometimes associating with those whose presence feels more like sandpaper to you than the soft brush of a rose petal. But that too becomes a necessary part of life, shaping and forming us into a more refined version of who we would be without it.
To conclude, I do not claim to even know just how much my own life will ask of me to make these very kinds of decisions. I sit in this seat without the many burdens and "things not considered" that are true of your own life and experience as well as its particular stage. I am more than anything just prompting us to think about what we're doing, so that when we come to the end of our days we may know that we did not enter blindly into decisions. We played some part, as much as we were able, to influence the very things that shape us into who we become.
Until next time,
Things
A Gentleman in Moscow - The on-screen version, (Paramount+) is better than I would have ever imagined a screen-adapted version to be. I just recently finished it and give it as good of a mark as is possible. Ewan McGregor was phenomenal, and the mixture of strict adherence to the book and creating narrative drama on the screen was very balanced. The only thing I can recommend as highly is Christopher Storer’s The Bear, whose third season comes out next month.
Fireworks & Rollercoasters - Album by Benson Boone has been on heavy rotation since it came out. It’s probably too Pop for the classic rock crowd, and too rock for the heartbreak pop crowd. But for me? It’s perfect.
Deep Work - Cal Newport has had a profound impact on the way that I’ve been thinking about work as well as deriving satisfaction from it. If you prefer to expose yourself to some of his ideas, he had a great sit down with Andrew Huberman shortly following the release of his newest book, Slow Productivity (which I’m reading now).
Thank you for reading, I sincerely appreciate it. I would love to hear from you, whether it be your thoughts on anything above, or any recommendations on food, wine, music, books, movies, shows, etc. that could find their way into a future issue. Or simply drop me a note to say hello! Reach me at writejohnduffy@protonmail.com - I look forward to hearing from you.
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