“If I were to name the three most precious resources of life, I should say books, friends, and nature; and the greatest of these, at least the most constant and always at hand, is nature.”
-- John Burroughs




Tuesday, May 29, 2012

Nocturnal Animals, Johnny Cash, and the Elusive Single Male Paddler

Photocred: Jeff Bowers, 2005; flikr.com

Warning: low blood sugar and lack of sleep make for an uncharacteristically pessimistic and nonsensical Cate.

Okay, I will admit it, I'm a bad blogger.

I'm sure I could devote the time to sharing my thoughts with you, but:
a) I'm not sure if anybody reads the crap I produce
b) I don't know what to talk about, as there are many things going on my head
c) I'm too damn busy doing...heck, I don't even know what I do half the time

Come to think of it, I spend most of my time engaging in one of two things: thinking or doing.

Now, you must be thinking "duh, what else would you do?" and you're right, but let me explain what I mean.

Recently, I have been thinking about what to do with my life, and I've been doing everything I can to keep creepy flying rodents out of my bedroom at night. I'm starting to come undone a little at the seams. So is the tent that I stuck up in the backyard and that has been pummelled by hail and thrashed against the tree a million times. I don't know which is fairing better, me or the tent.

My somewhat convoluted point is, most people are more one than the other. There are 'thinkers' and there are 'doers'. I feel I'm smack dab right in the middle of those two, and as I'm setting off to find a career, I find myself in a bit of a predicament as to what kind of job I'm best suited for. Right now I'm walking the line between science and policy, and I'm starting to think that I'd like to stay on that line (insert plodding Johnny Cash bassline here).. Not many people are able to follow along with both.

Scientists think, but hate to communicate their findings and associated implications because it generally makes them uncomfortable.

Policy makers do, but don't always have the scientific know-how to understand what's best.

I feel like there needs to be more of the go-betweens. Especially at a time like this, when policy makes no environmental sense and science funding is being slashed and researchers muzzled.

Yet, I'm still at a loss for how to go about it. Where do I want to work? For who? Doing what?

So I suppose it might be helpful for me to draw up some criteria for my future life.

Place:
- I want to live in a small town (no bigger than Peterborough)
- Close enough to cottage country and undeveloped wilderness to escape on weekends
- Where there is a strong community and great opportunities for kids

Job:
- I get to be outside at least a portion of the time and possibly travel
- I get to write about environmental issues/science/policy
- I work with supportive colleagues and have a mentor-type supervisor
- I get to teach/communicate what I know to others
- I make a real difference

Family:
....anyone got any leads on the outdoorsy men? Where the hell are they? I'm starting to get a bit frustrated.

I feel like David Attenborough is creeping through the bush at this very moment in time, and speaking to a cameraman:

"The Elusive Single Male Paddler...a beautiful specimen of humankind! He often hides far out in the Canadian wilderness, scouting for lush, wild places and adventure. He paddles his canoe silently, as not to scare the other animals, however this habit makes it nearly impossible for the Common Outdoorswoman to locate a mate. Perhaps this species will soon slip from existence, forgotten to a world of gadgetry and asphalt..."

Okay, that was a little over the top. But hey, it's how I feel.

For now, I will just keep thinking about the future and hope everything falls into place.

And I suppose my battle with the bats will continue. For some reason they enjoy swooping into my room only when I'm naked and force me to run into the hallway wrapped in a crocheted blanket that really does little to solve the nakedness problem.

I need sleep. And a hug.

Sigh.