A personal escape plan starts with tiny epiphanies
This is the fourth article in a series on how I set up a slow life I don’t need to escape.
One of the most transformative things I’ve learned is that we can’t judge an epiphany by its size.
Looking back I see how only a huge dose of nature could have triggered my big epiphany. My senses of awe and wonder were frayed and disconnected from years of pushing myself relentlessly.
Once my deadened senses were sparked by this gentle shock therapy, I couldn’t help but notice all kinds of things that were there all along. Tiny epiphanies kept rolling in, tiny brilliant reframes of my daily life.
From the intolerable to the awe-inspiring
Things I had been tolerating – like my neighbor’s constant late night backyard parties – became intolerable. Bits of beauty – like the silhouette of a tree against the night sky – offered moments of sacred awe.
Like a string of tiny bright lights in the darkness, the small epiphanies illuminated more and more of the discontent under my surface awareness. If I dared, I could peer deeper to find what really mattered. Sometimes a tiny epiphany would trigger a deep remembering and I’d feel an old yearning that had drifted away, like wanting to paint again.
The big epiphanies slap us in the face to get our attention. But the tiny ones often sting harder.
Finding the the vein of gold
Because the tiny epiphanies reveal our non-negotiables.
I discovered that many things in my life that were once non-negotiable had become nice to have. I thought I stayed in a big city for the restaurants, convenient shopping, entertainment, museums. When I realized I wasn’t taking much advantage of these city benefits and wouldn’t miss them that much, the world of possibilities suddenly exploded.
So what was calling to me? I needed quiet, serenity, and while I didn’t know it then, inexhaustible beauty. My awakened – and raw – senses told me I was exhausted by hard edges and grittiness.
My non-negotiables started to organize themselves into real-world labels. I needed a change of physical environment, more open space. I had to get away from Detroit’s brutal winters and gray weather. The vibe of a small town, preferably with a college, felt like the right speed.
But what shone brightest, over and over, was that I had to be surrounded by nature, not just be close to it. My big epiphany and years of cat-sitting vacations in the mountains told me I wanted more trees for neighbors than people.
A gut-level sorting
This uncovering and “sorting” of my non-negotiables was not a conscious process at the time. It was gut level, one tiny epiphany after another. And because years of ingrained expectations were being peeled away, it was unsettling and painful.
But because I was also learning to lean into the unknown and expect to be surprised, I stayed with it. I learned that when I turned my attention away from clinging to what was old and familiar, I felt a rush of possibilities, like a cool summer breeze after sunset.
You don’t need a big epiphany in the mountains like I did to begin to sense the direction of your personal escape plan. You don’t need mountains. My thing is not your thing.
Tiny epiphanies and non-negotiables will mark your way.
Tomorrow I’ll share one non-negotiable we all share.
P.S. If you missed the first three articles and want to catch up:
