As I sit with my purple-casted foot elevated on pillows and listen to the sounds of summer at our little beach-side neighborhood - sounds of saws and hammers and other tools of renovations to nearby old homes like ours, kids riding their bikes and skateboards down the street with makeshift ramps along the way, mothers strolling their infants and walking their toddlers toward the beach to wade in the cold water of Casco Bay or play in the sand and climb on the rocks - I am reminded of how lucky I am to live in such a wonderful place as Maine. The sign on the turnpike as you enter the state says "Maine, the way life should be." And I can definitely understand the feelings that prompted that motto, although the state of Maine of course has its own set of problems just like any other.
People who live here deal with one of the highest tax rates in the country (both property tax and income tax, and of course we have sales tax too). And our cost of living, particularly home costs, are spiraling because of the popularity of the state among people "from away" (as the Mainers say) who can afford to spend more on their second home than most people spend on their primary residence. And it can be difficult to make a living here because it's not exactly a hub of business or industry, and the majority of businesses that are here are of the "mom and pop" variety with just a few employees and often no or limited benefits like health insurance and other things that people in other states just take for granted.
But living here also comes with many wonderful things that perhaps can't be found everywhere. This is still one of those places where most people feel safe in their homes and our crime rate is low. Kids here still ride their bikes or walk to school in many towns - particularly in the less rural ones like ours in the Portland area where the nearby school is typically a short walk or bike ride away. This is still one of those places where people often leave the car parked, so our sidewalks are kept busy with joggers and dog walkers and kids on skateboards and others just out for a stroll. We even have postal workers that still walk from one home to another to leave mail in the mailboxes attached to the front porch just like ours. We have both summer and winter community festivals that are held outside in a nearby park - with ice skating or hockey in the winter and picnics and music in the summer.
Of course being in a cold climate means people take advantage of our short summers to get outside, although even in the long, cold winters people seem to just deal with the cold and go on about their business of work or play - they just dress for the weather and get on with it. That "deal with it" attitude is one that I've come to admire in places like Maine and Montana (we also lived in Montana for five years). In these more remote and rugged climates life is not always gentle or easy or comfortable, but people just seem to rise to the occasion and make the best of whatever the weather or life in general throws at them. They seem to have a sort of no-nonsense and independent "grit" about them which helps them not only survive but thrive in both good times and times of adversity. I witnessed that spirit in Montana where ranchers still managed to take care of themselves, their equipment and their livestock on those -40 days. And I see the same spirit here in Maine where the lobster and other fishermen still head out to sea during beautiful days and gales alike, and the rest of us that just get along with our business no matter how cold or hot the weather. As a matter of fact, it's not unusual to see people venture down toward the water in the middle of one of our infamous Nor'easters to watch the waves pound the shore. I've been there myself many times as we stand there huddled in our foulies as the rain beats down and the wind threatens to knock us down - as we watch with awe as Mother Nature puts on a show that is both beautiful and somewhat frightening at the same time. Not everyone gets to see such awesome power in action - but people here seem to both respect and admire these forces that are such a part of our landcape, and they seem to accept it as such.
I've come to greatly admire that outlook, especially the "no whiners" attitude that you don't find everywhere. And it seems these people have found the secret to life if there is one. And it seems to have something to do with adapting to things as they come and making the most of what IS instead of worrying about what "should be", of being willing to admit and discuss their own flaws or problems instead of speaking in hushed tones about someone else's, of complaining a bit less about things and working a bit more to make them better, of spending less time being angry about someone else's actions while at the same time justifying our own, and of just focusing on the many positive aspects of life and everyone in it - of thinking the best of people instead of assuming the worst. These things are not a given, and I've lived in plenty of places where this was not at all the "way of being", and where anyone can get caught up in all that negativity (I know I did). But I've come to greatly admire and hope to emulate this more positive way of looking at people, life, and the world in general. As I write this, I imagine some who might read it know exactly what I'm talking about, while perhaps others don't even begin to understand, and out of that ignorance may chose to belittle or demean it. For me, there are many, many things in this life that I still don't understand or perhaps agree with, but I hope I will never lose that innate curiosity I've always had to learn, to expand my horizons, and to grow. And to never demean or poke fun at something just because I don't understand it. Life is too short and precious for that.
Tim and I are among the lucky ones living here in Maine, because his job allows him to live almost anywhere since he travels so much anyway. And while I'm not employed full-time just now (for the first time since I was 15), my education and varied background have fortunately allowed me to remain gainfully employed no matter where we've lived regardless of the job climate. And of course my willingness to adapt and do most anything has probably helped - that is probably another mandatory characteristic of people that are able to "make it work" in places like Montana or Maine - states known for being great places to visit, but also for hard places to make a living. In our 20+ years together (coming up on 24 years in just a few weeks), Tim and I have lived in NC, Oregon, Montana, Colorado, and now Maine. With the exception of NC and Colorado, we typically lived and worked in small to very small towns, so while Tim's career may have taken us there which of course guaranteed us at least one paying job, my jobs have greatly varied over the years.
In the last 20 years I've worked as a programmer/analyst at a large public utility, as a technical trainer and writer for both large and small software companies, I've been a newspaper editor for local publications and a freelance journalist for state-wide magazines, I've worked as a lift hostess at a ski resort where primary duties were checking lift tickets and shoveling snow, and I've worked as a DoD contractor as an engineer with a national security clearance working daily with military personnel (that's where I was on September 11th). While I remember some of these aspects to my "career" more fondly than others, I am glad for them all, because they have all been incredible life experiences which helped my ability to adapt to whatever life throws at me, and each of them have taught me different things about people and life. I am very lucky to have experienced them all, especially the people I met along the way.
One of these people is a lovely lady called Lydia, who I've conversed with online but never actually met in person. I met her husband, Skip, briefly at a 50th birthday party for a co-worker's spouse. This brief meeting led to our getting on their email distribution list as they changed their lives dramatically by giving up what most would call a "normal" life to live on a boat and cruise around, making a living from a combination of doing without a lot of things to make the "kitty" last as long as possible, and to feed it whenever they can by odd jobs along the way as most cruisers do. I have heard of many people who have done this, sometimes even with kids in tow. Perhaps it's not the kind of life that everyone would chose, but I'm often reminded of a question that a reporter asked Tom Neale once (he and his wife raised 2 daughters from birth until they left for college while cruising on their boat Chez Nous). The reporter asked him why he lived on a boat, and his answer was a simple and direct, "Why do you live in a house?" To me, one question seemed as "normal" as the other.
I was inspired to write this "memoir" such as it is, after reading something my "email buddy" Lydia wrote recently about their experiences in their new life. They had a tough beginning as early on they found themselves and their boat being battered on a reef in a frightening and potentially life-threatening event which they now call "The Adventure." And while some might be tempted to say... "see, that's what happens" - while at the same time forgetting more people are injured or die in car accidents every day than in all the more "unusual" pursuits combined. It's just that we don't want to think of that as we put ourselves and our kids in that car to run to the market or head to the beach. We all do things that come with risk every day, and I personally don't see why we should fear the things that perhaps we don't understand very well and represent them as "more dangerous" - while ignoring the things we all do every day that actually come with more real risk. Lydia and Skip dealt with their adventure in a positive and "can do" kind of way, and after some time to regroup and repair, they're now on their way again. I admire that attitude and outlook very much, and I hope to emulate that some day. So to Lydia and Skip, bon voyage guys!
Many thanks for listening to my ramblings. I welcome yours as well anytime.
My best to all,
Carla
