So, I’ve apparently started a blog. My goal is to once a week share my experiences of living in an ecovillage in the Netherlands. In my previous post I wrote about how I finally took the step to embark on this little journey, how doing something like this had been a sort of dream hidden in me for a long time. I was happy with my text, but also feared I had shared too much. Eventually I thought that I do want to be personal in this blog, since anything else would seem embellished and superficial. I also thought to myself: What would I be interested in reading myself? Probably not another generic travel description, but rather something I could relate to.
As an anthropologist, I am deeply interested in people’s own stories about what provides their lives with meaning. In this post I will share a few deeper reflections on my own search for meaning. How did this search lead me to an ecovillage at the age of 28?
When I look back, it seems like I’ve always been a searcher. Throughout my teens and early twenties I thought that this was something related to my age. When you’re young, it’s normal and even expected to be searching for your identity and your place in this world. Also when you graduate from high school, many people believe that it’s wise to take a gap year to “find yourself”. Accordingly, I thought I was doing the right thing. Only thing was, there were so many things I could potentially pursue! So many interesting paths to explore. “You’re still young”, people would tell me. “You’ve got many years to figure it all out.” But I never found this one thing that I wanted to commit to. Furthermore, the thought of doing something for more than three years would make me feel as if I was driven into a corner, missing out on other opportunities. Rationally I knew that this was not true – there are always new things and human connections to discover and enjoy. Changing things up every once in a while is certainly not the only way to live an exciting and fulfilled life. Even so, after some time in one place I would always find myself thinking: Is this it? Is this all there is? Regardless of what I did, it would always be there. A thirst for more.
In many ways, this thirst is a blessing. Thanks to it, I’m always in motion. I’m never stuck in a rut because I know that life holds countless possibilities. However, at my age, I see people around me starting to settle down. They may buy a flat, move in with their partner, get married, have kids. These things are also good examples of what society drills us to desire from an early age. I do think it’s a very beautiful thing that everybody does exactly what fills up their own life with joy, but in my case I have started to wonder: What if I don’t want kids? What if I actually don’t want to work nine to five every day and climb that career ladder? It was hard to embrace and I have often felt lonely in my longing for something else. There must be something wrong with me, I have sometimes thought. Or there must be some fears hidden in me somewhere. Alternatively a general lack of discipline and dedication. Why else would I constantly search out new experiences, never fully committing to anything?
Last year was no exception. I had just finished my bachelor’s degree in social anthropology and felt both lost and restless. So as the searcher I am, I searched. I travelled to many different places that summer. And I remember very clearly that something in me suddenly became tangible when I was in the south-east of Scotland for one week, working in the vegetable garden of a couple. Both Helen and Paul, as they were called, were very inspiring people. Helen created adorable ceramic sculptures with mischievous faces. Their garden was spectacular. They also cooked the most delicious vegan food one could ever imagine. Even if they would forget to add onion to a dish, it would taste amazing.
During this short week, I felt like I was seen in a way that I hadn’t been seen in a long time. I could express to Helen what I was longing for in life without further explanation, because I saw in her eyes that she understood. She just got me. Sometimes strangers understand you better than people you’ve known for ages. It is rather unlikely that I will meet Helen and Paul again, but one thing is for certain: something dormant in me came to life there. It had probably always been there, but these people helped me see it.
Since last summer, things have fallen more into place for me. I have accepted the fact that my life is, and will likely continue to be, a ragbag of different experiences. This is such a relief for me, and I’m now proud of being different. But my search for meaning continues. Apparently a conventional lifestyle in that sense doesn’t appeal to me that much, at least not for the time being, and consequently I found myself drawn to ecovillages and community life. Perhaps I could find like-minded people there? People who also want something else. Other searchers.
After having spent more than a month in Ecodorp Bergen, I can say that I do feel very much at home here. I don’t need to question my own worldview anymore, because these people see the world in a similar way. They appreciate my more silly, eccentric side. They just get me.
Even after these 4,5 months, my search will probably continue. There are still so many things to experience and I’m not sure if I can choose one single path and stick with it. But that’s okay. My wishes and desires are perfectly okay. There are people like me. We can live the life we want.