Service and Selfishness

 Do you want to lead a life of impact and influence? Of service?

Who doesn't?

What does that kind of life look like?

I was talking with a friend the other day and she laid out my dilemma perfectly: I am torn between a quiet cabin in the woods and a life of impact, of active involvement and service in the community.

Really, if I'm being honest (and I strive to be), I'm not that torn; I know exactly which one I want. I choose the secluded cabin in the woods, one hundred percent. Whereas my friend has already chosen a life of helping and inspiring others. I'm afraid my choice makes me selfish; I cling to peace and beauty, drawing them as closely as I can around myself, like curtains, trying to shut out the world. I don't want to be poisoned by it, but by wrapping myself in seclusion and blissful ignorance I am not sharing any light I might be able to offer it, either.

Does choosing the tranquil, quiet, solitary way have to be an act of selfishness? Maybe not.

Maybe it's a matter of perspective. Maybe, instead of choosing the cabin in the woods in order to shut out the world, I can choose it to create and curate beauty and share it with others. For me, this might look like selling eggs from my small flock of chickens and ducks, sharing raw goats' milk with my neighbors, renting a cob house to those seeking a weekend of peace and restfulness, and selling herbal products made with plants I grow and forage.

I refuse to believe that choosing the quiet way means selfishness. I want to help people, but there's no prescribed way I have to do that. A life of impact, service, and inspiration wears as many different forms as there are people to live it. We should choose a lifestyle that suits us, that makes us content while we do good, otherwise we will be doing it out of a sighing, self-righteous sense of duty. Service should be a joy.

So I choose the cabin in the woods. And I choose it without guilt.