When did living a quiet, simple, dignified life become such a bad thing?
A friend asked this question rhetorically, but it made me really want to think through my answer. When did that happen?
On the surface, I wouldn’t want to admit that I ever thought it was a bad thing. When I think of a dignified quiet life, I often think of the people in rural villages I have the privilege of meeting and working with. Their lifestyles are modest by our standards, and yet they are absolute heroes of mine.
I don’t seriously think a simple life like that is a bad thing, right?
But then, I think about the books I read, the conferences I attended, and the accounts I followed throughout my twenties and even up until today. So many of them are oriented around pursuit, adventure, or a quest. I’ve always been attracted to stories about extreme pursuits- like wanting to visit every country without using planes. I’ve also found it especially inspiring when the pursuit was something heroic. Stopping a war, or human trafficking, for example.
So often, these books, posts, and conferences challenged people to do something ambitious. Something where success was not guaranteed.
You did this to make the world a better place, but you also did it for yourself. To live your legend, as The Alchemist would put it.
I have a life that allows me to be pretty adventurous. My work trips are more likely to bring me to India than Indianapolis, and I’ve been getting especially exciting invitations the past few years.
On the flip side, the ordinary moments of my life have never been better. Being a dad to three toddlers makes my world pretty small, but it is indeed beautiful.
I like to think my year could be divided up into Anthony BourdIn days- a handful of spots on the calendar that are full of exploring new places and eating boldly-
surrounded by Jim Gaffigan days. Those are the ones where I wrangle my many children until it’s time to put them to sleep so I can binge watch stuff while eating ice cream out of the tub.
In my life, the tension between ambition and simplicity isn’t just a philosophical one, it’s my daily life. That’s why I made this the topic of my latest video.
In my most recent years, I’ve been wrestling with whether or not the call to adventure conflicts with the beauty of the ordinary. By nature, I am much more inclined towards thrill-seeking, so learning how to appreciate the quiet side of life feels like maturity.
First came fatherhood, then the pandemic. Work, travel, conferences, races, boxing, etc. all went on hiatus. It was a lot of staying put.
It was a challenge but I grew.
Then came the twins and my life got three times as domestic. But I learned how to see the beauty in that.
All this time spent staying still gave me the chance to reevaluate what I thought about adventure and travel and striving. I missed going places, for sure, but the lifestyle I once lived of seeing dozens of countries a year started to lose its shimmer.
There are all kinds of reasons why people do things like climb mountains and visit very distant locations. As you do this for longer, your motivations likely become mixed.
There’s probably some genuine curiosity combined with the hope that it makes you a more interesting person.
There’s probably the desire to take on the adventures that are burning on your heart within your precious, limited lifetime. This can come from a place of good stewardship, or it can come from a scarcity mentality. Or both.
And the more I thought about the social and environmental impact of travel and other adventures, the more gray areas emerged.
I started to feel like embracing a simpler life might be the better way to go. A couple years ago, I felt more ready for it than I had ever been.
Then, I started traveling again. I visited new and old destinations, and it reminded me of how much this stuff makes me feel alive.
I honestly feel like my truest self when meeting a remote village, or trying out a dish somewhere overseas I’d never seen before.
While the simplicity of a quiet life was growing on me, making that my entire pursuit didn’t feel true to who I was. Romanticizing it could only go so far. I needed that integrity.
I now realize that these two sides in my life might be complementary opposites that hold each other in balance. Learning how to make room for each feels the most whole.
I think I’ll probably always be thinking up my next adventure, not to mention a few more further down the line to look forward to.
At the same time, I absolutely don’t want to go non-stop. I actually love the current rhythm of my life, where in between the big pursuits I get a long stretch of ordinary life. It’s during those stretches where my experiences really sink in and it doesn’t just feel like rushing from one destination to the next.
For me, I suppose it all stems from a realization of how precious each day of life is.
It is too short and precious to not pursue the big things that make you come fully alive.
At the same time, it’s too short and precious to simply rush that pursuit, without the beautiful ordinary scenes in between.
Put these epiphanies together and I suppose we’re getting somewhere.