Over the past few weeks, I’ve been very stressed trying to figure out my future. I know that somehow, I want to revolve my life around ecology and conservation. But ever since covid kicked us out of college in the spring of 2020, I’ve mostly been searching for some stability. Everything since then has felt like a transitional phase. At the same time, I feel like I need to be making big important life choices. Do I try to get a data-based job that keeps me inside but pays well? Do I get another short-term outdoor gig? Should I commit to something that puts me on the frontier of global issues like climate change or covid, or should I find something more insulated from the plagues threatening societal dissolution? Maybe I should start graduate school. How do I balance what’s secure, what’s impactful, and what’s fun?
With conservation I’ve learned there is always a massive amount of work to be done. It’s overwhelming. There is so much we all should be doing in our day-to-day life; it’s easy to get discouraged feeling like one person could never truly make a difference. And while the external pressures from society tell us to be conservation minded, it’s extremely hard to make a real living in this field. I took this AmeriCorps position because I felt that my service here with SLCS would be a contribution to good, however small. I hope the months I’ve spent here have mattered at least to some extent in the larger scheme of conservation. But I’ve found that to me personally, the small moments here mattered most. For example: pulling invasive bittersweet with new friends, jumping in the lake after a hot sweaty day, ice cream from the creamery, bonding (and learning) from fixing plumbing emergencies, Halloween in July, lunch in the sun with the team, connecting with local volunteers, cute dogs visiting the office, running into a moose walking down the trail, driving a boat for the first time and getting to do the “boat wave”, pointing out every pretty tree on the way to the office as the leaves change, showing my family a new trail I’ve worked on, falling flat on my face into a stream because my shoelace was untied and laughing so hard we can’t breathe, a beautiful view, the joy of free food, finding a bear family on a morning run, and catching a yellow leaf before it hits the ground.
I’m really not sure where I’m going next. But my time here at Squam has reminded me that the most important things are often the moments we don’t plan. These moments are what make the work valuable and continue to inspire me to keep making one small step at a time toward our larger goals.
