April 2004 Newsletter
Online Issue # 6

Profile of Karen:

IN THE LONGING WAS THE BEGINNING

The window by my desk overlooks Highway 75 as it heads through the Red River Valley on the final straightaway north to Winnipeg. In less than a year I've become familiar with the rhythms of this road. The highway is the first layer toward the horizon. Next is the Burlington Northern railway, the low rumble and mournful whistle make a friendly presence during the day. Just past the western edge of town is the prairie-now-farmland. An ever changing sky is the greatest presence of all.

The wind is always with us. The flag above the school out toward the edge of town is one day stretched to the north, and the next, to the south. A poem reads "When the wind blows/that is my medicine/ When it rains/that is my medicine/ When it hails/that is my medicine/ When it becomes clear after a storm/that is my medicine" (anonymous). I had to chuckle. What good medicine we have here in the Valley! Our weather is very much with us, here on the open plains we are really very small against the remarkable open landscape.

How did I come to be here in this immense, windy place? No small change from my life of 30 years in Minneapolis/St. Paul, studying and working many of those years at the University of Minnesota. In February and March of last year I sold a house, packed up my home, said farewell to the University, said farewell to the companionship of wonderful friends, and in April was heading northwest, returning to my hometown called Hallock. The first year anniversary of the move approaches and it feels like a good time to reflect.

Making a major change at age fifty brought just about everything to the surface to be considered, reconsidered, and pondered! Could there possibly be life after the University of Minnesota? Could I make a living some other place? Could I manage my life without my friends near me? Would I meet new friends? I'm a very curious person, enthusiastic about learning and scholarship. How would I continue that part of my life? Where would I find a teacher so I could continue learning about book binding and other book arts? But all these questions actually came much later, after I was well in to the process.

A year earlier, at the beginning, something took hold of me that is a little hard to define. I felt a longing for change but didn't have much of an idea of what I could do differently, if anything, with my life. Many times I wished to break from my well-established routine. A desire was growing for a home-base from where I could travel, perhaps even live in a foreign country for a time. As it turned out, in the longing was the beginning. It was time to give myself over to the possibility of change. This time the feeling would not let go.

One guide through this process of dwelling in possibility, was a class called Intentional Living-Meaningful Work, offered at the University, followed by an ongoing group that developed out of the class. For a year we met every month. Even though the course had been offered for several years- suddenly I had to join now. Then, at the same time, I decided that whatever happened in my future, one thing was sure. I must finish my University degree. If a change was possible, I couldn't leave without that document. Only one class remained, and it seemed that the University wouldn't let me go until I had proven myself with mathematics. I ruefully decided that math was not going to get in my way!

TURNING POINTS-REVEALING PATTERNS

Browsing through the course catalog I found one that sounded just right: the fundamentals of map making. I have loved maps my whole life and read travel books with an atlas open beside me. Plus, math seemed much less daunting if it was going to be connected to maps. The labs and calculations associated with the course were very difficult, but I practiced problems over and over and kept at it. The thrilling part was the map library. The University has one of the largest collections of maps in the world and I spent happy hours looking at historical maps of the Scandinavian countries, finding the precise location of my dad's birthplace in Sweden. Beyond the measurements and following a route to a location, I discovered what a powerful symbol maps are to me. I spent time with the maps of Poland, where I had visited twice, both times feeling an overpowering urge to live there for a time. While my mind and imagination were working overtime I finished the degree.

Map class was to become a turning point. One particular assignment focused on "mental maps." These are the pictures we carry in our mind, how we visualize where we are going and how we move around in the world. Mental maps have little to do with precise measurements. One mental map I drew during class astounded me. In an oddly shaped triad, I had pictured my hometown of Hallock, the Twin Cities, and the Baltic Sea region.

Another turning point came out of the Intentional Living group. We were asked to select seven objects that symbolized our lives and to bring these to the group as a way to introduce ourselves. I had read an ancient theory that our lives go through a repeating seven-year cycle of renewal, development, and casting away what no longer is relevant. So I decided to select items that represented each seven-year period of my 49 years. My objects represented early years in Hallock, my young adult years in the Twin Cities, and, interestingly, my growing desire to travel in the countries around the Baltic Sea.

Searching for symbolic objects to describe our lives gave us a chance to offer our essence to the group-we got out of the realm of the everyday, what did we do, who did we see, what was said-and into the core of our being. It seemed so simple, but it was very powerful. Choosing and holding the objects in my hands, talking about what they signified, gave focus to the continuing themes in my life, some which worked well, and some that I was finally ready to let go. Something essential was taking shape and rising to the surface. Looking back, this "essence" had been waiting for me for a long time. This time I was ready to listen and probe and write and map a new course for my future. Ever since "map class" I have noticed how the imagery of maps is reflected in poetry, fiction, personal discovery, and art. I created a special box for my objects and have them with me as a reminder.

How many ways can a person be intentional about life? I discovered three revealing patterns about myself. I have been known to get a burst of an idea and just do it fast and have it done. But more often I have had great ideas, but left them too long in the pondering mode, and they just fizzled away. I discovered that I am able to work with an idea, circle it, explore resources, talk about it, write about it, while continually making positive steps that lead in the direction toward accomplishment. This was a new pattern emerging and one that I want to follow. For years I resisted, feeling that starting out in the direction of a specific goal would somehow close off all the possibilities. I'm very grateful that I discovered that moving in the direction of a goal moves you toward the goal, plus each step along the path creates even more possibilities. A friend of mine is fond of saying that even baby steps will get you there and will get you there on time. (I was also happy to learn that many of the fizzled ideas were still fizzling and waiting.)

I had much going on internally, working and stewing on its own. The ideas needed expression, so for an introverted person I became quite an extrovert. I pushed outward to find what I needed. I met the organizer of an international hosting organization called Women Welcome Women World Wide. For that day when I make the leap and try a summer in Eastern Europe, I'll have friends waiting for me to help with the transition. While waiting for map class to begin I often stopped in the Study Abroad Resource Center and browsed the files on the countries that I'm particularly drawn to explore.

In the middle of all this, I was offered a job near my hometown of Hallock, to work with a friend's software business. That's when all those questions really started working on me. My family home had been standing empty waiting for attention. My mother had moved to an apartment after my father died and she needed support. One step at a time I surveyed the landscape and came to the conclusion that I would move to Hallock, and move forward in life from there.

A collage of experiences created quite a storehouse of information for me to draw from. Something in the physical expression of creating a map moved me along the path. Recognizing those long held patterns freed me from getting into my unproductive mode. Recognizing a pattern and rhythm that created positive results gave me confidence that even when I felt scared and overwhelmed I was still moving forward.

NEW HORIZONS

Yes, there is life after the University. It is hard to be apart from long time friends, but we keep in touch, and my new home has become a destination. I have met new friends. It takes longer for books to reach me, but Minnesota has a fabulous statewide library system. I have been asked to be a member of the board of directors of the local museum. I found a book arts teacher in Winnipeg and have worked in her studio and have met her group of "bookies." I'm quite involved with the daily needs of my elderly mother. The Baltic Sea still beacons and though I'm not able to make a longer commitment of time to explore the area, I am going to take a two-week cruise of the area next August.

I drive from Hallock to the workplace in Kennedy along 10 miles of Highway 75. Highway 75 starts in Winnipeg, Manitoba, and runs through the very center of the United States, and ends at the Gulf of Mexico. I keep the Highway 75 mental map in mind, and have a plan to one day travel the whole length of the road. But here in the present moment when the road conditions are okay, I have plenty of time to ponder. The view has been an ever changing phenomenon this first year. Beautiful sunrises and sunsets all winter, that is when it isn't snowing and blowing so hard you can't see anything.

I tell people it's a good thing I love the horizon because that's about all there is here. Perhaps it is time to draw a new map. For one thing, the triad has shifted in a northerly direction. I'm grateful to my new artist friends in Winnipeg and am enjoying getting to know that vibrant, charming, and cosmopolitan city. Though I'm not living out of the country yet, I am spending quite a lot of time in the country. I live near Lake Bronson State Park and, for the first time in years, spent most of the summer swimming. I have discovered one new item for my intentional living quest: I want to live near swimming water all year around, not only three brief months. For now I am content.

written by Karen
©March 2004

Note:

For information about the next "Intentional Living-Meaningful Work" class, contact Laurie at 651-644-7766, or e-mail her at mail@LaurieMattila.com.

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