Not All Those Who Wander Are Lost — J.R.R. Tolkien

Maybe we just look like we are

iStock photo by Sadeugra

I love being on the same page as JRR Tolkien. Only we're not. Well, not exactly.

There are those moments when I am reading Lord of the Rings, and then I can say that I am literally on his page. And I love being on his page. After all, he created Gandalf, the wizard in Lord of the Rings. Gandalf is wise, great with people, and a firm believer that things will work out. Gandalf, to me, is synonymous with hope.

So while I can't claim any aspect of Tolkien other than appreciating his vision and creativity, I will claim Tolkien's quote as something that I actually follow. It speaks to me as an affirmation that exploring our universe is important. It means that we are curious, not lost. And even if we land in the weeds, there are things that might be worth learning.

Let's talk about those weeds specifically — the kind that ruins the look of your perfect yard of Kentucky bluegrass. Weeds are nature's way of covering the bare ground. We might not like them because it's not the growth we seek, but they are opportunistic, aggressive, and lasting beyond our wildest (and worst) dreams. So surely there is something for us to learn about weeds. It is why I have declared to myself that:

Not everything we do has to result in some efficient destination with purpose.

What are the "ways" that we wander? Using my favorite rule of 3, I will describe three ways that I have wandered and how they have made all the difference.

Packing My Bags With No Destination

When I graduated college, I wasn't sure whether I should head to Chicago or Boston. Neither place had a job waiting for me. Both cities had a home that I could reside in until I got settled.

I chose Boston and stayed with friends of my brother. I joined Kelly Girls (which has since been appropriately renamed "Kelly Services" for obvious reasons). I eventually found a job in health care which eventually led to evening courses which eventually led to graduate school.

My poor parents grew new gray hair in the process, but my wandering proved to us all that I could manage risk and develop new skills, all the while covering some very basic needs. New people spiced up my life. Boston was fertile territory for education and inspiration. I still live here today.

Returning to My Spiritual Roots

Spiritual wandering can take many forms — religious, communal, nature-centric, minimalist, and more. These wanderings strike me as the most curious. How do we land where we do and why?

I grew up in an observant Jewish home. The Sabbath was special, and we kept kosher. Then I entered a period where I decided those were my parents' values, not mine. I never went as far as eating pork, but I had other "transgressions." Then one day, I woke up and decided that after all my spiritual journeying and denials, I knew where I belonged.

I literally said to myself,

“If you were Euell Gibbons, you would be climbing mountains and eating plants and berries, but you’re not Euell Gibbons. If you were a Kennedy (I was after all living in Boston), you’d be playing touch football in Hyannis. You are Jewish, and belong to a family that observes certain practices. This is how you will connect and identify.”

And so I did. My parents showed patience throughout as they hoped for the best. When I told them that I was returning to kashrut, my dad said that he would be happy to buy me all new kitchenware — which he then did.

Finding My Purpose

When I was in college, I was uncertain whether I would write and teach or possibly seek a career in medicine. I double-majored in Biology and English to keep my options open and then headed to Boston to find my way.

I landed an entry-level job in health care that acquainted me with the issues driving health care policy. Massachusetts General Hospital (MGH) was beginning to build an outpatient facility, and I was hired to support neighboring health centers as well as the development of the Wang Building — their large outpatient care facility. From the most clerical to the most data-driven needs, I said "yes" to everything.

The MGH experience was enlightening. I was able to answer the question, "What the hell am I going to do with my life?" For my parents, who loved a linear journey, I could now tell them that I had settled on a destination. I was to go to business school and specialize in health care.

This has worked reasonably well, except that there was this small issue of sustaining my writing habit. I'm the kind of person who likes to "have written" on most days. Even on days when the words don't come, I am still "at the plate with a bat" — or more specifically, a laptop — in hand. I file this impulse under the category, "Hope springs eternal." The words will eventually come.

I had to park this passion until I hit my sixties. Importantly, though, I never abandoned writing, and now, as people who follow me can see, my pen is continuously flowing… until some day when it probably won’t.

And So…

Indeed, without my wandering, I really would be lost. I will internalize Tolkien's quote not only for my benefit but for the benefit of my family.

Speaking of which, my son is a hobby gardener. I need to remember to tell him that weeds need to be respected.