Finding the Right Environment

Rappelling down a cave in the Waitomo District. In New Zealand, they refer to it as abseiling

There are some people who know exactly where they belong.

For better or worse, I am not one of those people.

I wonder how that is. Perhaps it’s because I grew up in a southern town, but from a mother who is from New Jersey and a father who grew up moving from place to place. Perhaps it’s all the traveling I’ve done, that I know I can adapt to many places, many situations. And if that place or situation makes me uncomfortable, I am alright with that because that is how a person grows, and I know that it won’t last forever.

This is not to say that I feel like a don’t belong in the places I go. Rather, I mean that I know I can be happy in a variety of settings. This unlocks many options and gives me the confidence to explore and try new things, but it comes at the cost of security and certainty.

A few days ago, I was on a high adventure tour in the Waitomo Caves, renowned for its glowworms. I rappelled into a cave, traversed an underground river, spelunked through tight limestone passageways, and climbed up roaring waterfalls. I had an absolute blast.

While I was taking the tour, our guide mentioned that longfin eels occasionally make their way upriver and find themselves in these caves and make them their home. The guide commented that she wasn’t sure why they picked these caves, though, because they don’t seem to grow at the same rate as the eels that end up in rivers with more food.

These eels spend many years living in these caves, to where they get to be known by the guides. This one's name is Cecil.

She also mentioned the glowworms, and how they seem to thrive in these caves. Getting up close to these larvae, we could see the thin strands of sticky silk that they let down to catch waterborne insects. Though glowworms can be found in New Zealand near other bodies of water, the wind would tangle these delicate nets, so the strands don’t grow nearly as long outside of caves.

Note the long strands dangling from the glow worms. They spend most of their life in this stage before becoming flies without mouths or digestive systems.

When it comes to writing, some people say they need the right environment to get the creative juices flowing: a quiet place, a comfortable chair and desk, a glass of alcohol if you’re Ernest Hemingway or Malcolm Lowry. Many would say you can’t force inspiration; you must wait for it to come, lure it and cajole it like some fickle lover. I’m sure the ‘right environment’ does make things easier. But I also like to think that perhaps any environment can be the ‘right environment’ if we go in with the right mindset. If even dank, dark caves can be an ideal space for certain creatures to thrive, I’m sure great works can be written even in trying circumstances. Take Fleetwood Mac’s album, Rumours, for example. Similarly, great books can be written about the most mundane of topics, if written correctly such as Virginia Woolf's Mrs. Dalloway or Ernest Hemingway's Old Man and the Sea.

Thus, the next time I find it difficult to write or accomplish a goal because of the world or setting I find myself in, I will see what happens when I tell myself, “Be the worm, not the eel.”

What the glowworms look like in the dark

P.S. In other news, I completed the first of what I hope to be many Great Walks. It was actually a canoe trip (which for me turned out to be a kayaking trip). I may share more about the details later, but in the meantime, here are some photos showing some of the journey.