Better a has-been

In doing my taxes this year, I realized that 2021 was the first year that I had not earned income from speaking or consulting since 1994. 

In ‘94, the New York School Library Media Specialists Association was the first professional organization to take a chance on me as a keynote speaker. I remember two things about the event:

• I mispronounced Sinn Fein - and a librarian called me on it after the talk.

• After socializing into the wee hours of the morning on which I was to speak, I learned that there were bets being taken on whether I would actually make it to the keynote.

Somehow I must have done OK since over the next 25 years I was asked to speak, give workshops, and conduct program evaluations for over 175 professional organizations and school districts ranging from schools right here in Minnesota to conferences in Beijing, Mumbai, Cartagena, and Addis Ababa. (Here is the complete list.) I missed only one engagement - the date had changed and I somehow didn’t record the new date. At two conferences the electricity went out and I had to improvise without my slides. One organization decided it would not pay my stipend because an administrator attending disagreed with a statement I made.  But it was nearly miraculous how many just plain went as planned.

A friend who is also a speaker/consultant recently commented that a number of people on the speaker circuit of tech, library, and education conferences have “retreated.”  I have a couple of good Facebook friends who have also retired from speaking as well. How many stopped doing this work voluntarily and how many stopped because of conferences going dark during the pandemic, I don’t know. 

I also don’t really know why my invitations to speak stopped. But they did - rather abruptly. I had voluntarily ended writing my regular columns. My last book was published in 2015. And I retired from my day job in 2019. So it really was time to “retreat” from my speaking gigs anyway. I had always been proud that I based my talks and workshops on real experiences from my district work as a technology and library director - not just theory and conjecture - and those experiences were now in the past.

As much as I enjoyed working with fellow professionals, meeting new people, seeing new places, creating and presenting new talks, and, yes, hearing compliments about my work, each trip came with a certain level of stress. Would the equipment work? Would my flight arrive in time? Would my ideas be well-received? Would I experience a memory lapse that would keep me from delivering my talk? Was I actually creating positive change?

I miss “the circuit” but I like that now travel for me is leisurely. I can leave the dress clothes at home. I can spend the time I would have used prepping for the talks for other things. I can “retreat” knowing that other younger, brighter, more inspired minds than mine are working on the problems of education, technology, and libraries.

It was fun to be sort of a big fish in a small pond for a few years. But it’s just as nice to be a minnow once again. 

My spirit animal

In certain spiritual traditions or cultures, spirit animal refers to a spirit which helps guide or protect a person on a journey and whose characteristics that person shares or embodies. It is also a metaphor, often humorous, for someone or something a person relates to or admires. Dictionary.com

Reincarnation: a person or animal in whom a particular soul is believed to have been reborn. Oxford Languages

I doubt that I am the only person who speculates about an afterlife. Since it is getting closer every year, perhaps I am thinking about it more often. I rather doubt that one’s soul either enters a cloud and harp-filled heaven or a pitchfork and brimstone-filled hell. And I’d like to believe that the atheist sentiment of a belly flop into a void is not a sound prediction either.

Reincarnation sounds appealing. Shortly after I take my last breath, I will find myself standing in front of a long counter where I am expected to make a choice: “As what animal would you like to be reborn? Your karma is not good enough for another human life, I’m afraid.” Large photo albums allow one to select from anything from paramecia to gorillas.

Before traveling to the Galapagos islands, I believed that should I be reincarnated as an animal, I would like to come back as a pampered house cat. While I cannot be described as a “crazy cat person,” I have had a number of pet cats in the past. My mother, grandsons, and friends have house cats that they treat very nicely indeed. I enjoy a cat sitting on my lap while I stroke its back or rub its ears. I appreciate cats’ independent attitudes and lack of conscience over their lack of ambition. House cats for the most part are neutered, but perhaps a lack of sexual drive might lead to greater happiness and contentment (in humans as well). And one gets to be a finicky eater.

But then in the Galapagos I got to watch sea lions frolic on the beaches. These large, wild beasts seemed to have absolutely no cares in the world. The odd male did defend his 30-40 member harem now and then, but for the most part, the sea lions just slept, flopped about a bit, and cavorted in the waves lapping up on the beach. They even looked like they were having a good time underwater looking for fish to eat when I watched them while snorkeling. A carefree life without the confines or strictures placed on one who has an owner! Might the life of a sea lion be preferable to that of a house cat?

But then my last week in Ecuador was spent at a lodge where I met Ami, the resident dog. She was old, very sweet, friendly, and as the photo above shows, quite relaxed. She made herself at home in the dining area, in the bar, and on the deck outside my room. She was grateful for the treats I shared with her and was able to give me a look that made me feel guilty when I only gave her a single doggie meat stick.

But what made me consider a dog like Ami as my spirit animal was that she also had a job, a purpose at the lodge. She was the guard dog. She spent the nights with the human guard who patrolled the property. She moved (sleeping) locations throughout the day. The owners told me that when she spent the afternoon on my deck, it was because she liked me and was protecting me. I am positive her affection came from my personality rather than the treats I gave her.

Something tells me that we may have little choice in the matter of how we spend an afterlife, should there be one. Perhaps my future cockroach body is already in the works somewhere. But should I be given a choice, maybe a dog with a job might be an excellent body to inhabit the next go-round.

Comforts of home

9 Mile Creek - hiking in the cold and ice

I’m back home in Minnesota after spending four weeks in Ecuador. What in the hell was I thinking coming back so soon? 

The two hikes I’ve done since getting home were on icy paths, among those few that were not closed for cross country skiing. The wind and air temperature made staying warm without working up a sweat a challenge. Few other walkers were out and about.

High temps this coming week will mostly be in the single digits (some above and some below zero). A major snowstorm is predicted. Politics, COVID, gun violence, Russian aggression, dismal stock market performance, teacher strikes, and inflation dominate the headlines this last week of February.

During my stay in Cuenca and Vilcabamba, I met quite a few US and Canadian expats. They were in Ecuador for the long haul - either all winter or even all year. Ecuador’s climate, low cost of living, and political stability were the primary draws. I figured I could stay at the Izhcayluma resort for about $80 a day, $2400 a month (room, two meals, bottle of wine, laundry, and a 75-minute massage). Nice houses, I was told, could be rented in Cuenca for less than $500 a month. I met a woman who has been house-sitting in Central and South America over the past few years, not just avoiding paying rent, but getting paid to live in a warm place. I found the people of Ecuador friendly, the infrastructure sound, the streets safe, and my minimal Spanish=speaking abilities adequate. I thought it interesting that I had less problem getting wifi to my phone via a local SIM card in Ecuador than I did in Germany last summer. My local newspapers, books, and writing tools traveled with me digitally, of course. 

Yet, yet…

I don’t think I could be an expat - either permanently or even as a snowbird. I came home not just to the cold, but to friends, favorite restaurants, my comfy bed, my old recliner, and activities I enjoy. I missed coffee I brewed myself and wine I had selected. I missed the regulars for whom I provide volunteer rides and the other volunteers with whom I grocery shop each week. I missed my weekly walks with my buddy. It was comforting going to the supermarket this morning and cruising the aisle for the perishables, knowing where they will be. It was good to hear familiar voices on Minnesota Public Radio. It was good to hear the click and whoosh of the furnace as it kicked on.

Of course, I am already planning future trips. Short ones to see family in Iowa and Kansas City. And even more adventurous ones with Heidi. As much as I love home, cold weather and all, I love anticipating the next journey as much.