March 2008

I recently connected with an old friend on Facebook .Kimberly Lister, formerly Kimberly Stutts, and I went to high school together 25 years ago. We’re due for a class reunion. The last time we saw each other was at our last reunion more than 10 years ago. So it’s been great to be back in touch through this wonderful communication platform.

Over the last few weeks Kim and I have read each other’s Facebook status updates, slowly getting reacquainted. From what I’ve been able to gather from her profile she now works for the Los Angeles Unified School District, where my mom and one of my sisters had worked for many years. And from a quick google search I discovered she’s now a math teacher, an honorable and very worthwhile profession.

Chances are Kim doesn’t have as much time as I apparently do to spend online posting new items to her Facebook profile. That became pretty clear to me when she wrote a note to my wall that said, “James do you actually have a job?”

Her question took me up short as it occurred to me that in the traditional sense I really don’t have a job. As a freelance journalist and independent media producer there’s no place I have to be at a particular time every day. I don’t commute to an office, go to lunch with co-workers or count the days until my next vacation. So I wrote a reply to Kim’s wall post saying, “ A job? Tried that once. It didn’t take.”

I discovered a long time ago that what most people call a job just isn’t for me. Right out of college I worked running a rental shop at the REI store in Berkeley. I basically spent my days outfitting college students, soccer moms and weekend warriors with camping equipment, hiking boots, skis, snowshoes and climbing gear. When I wasn’t sending stuff out, I did repairs and maintenance. And just about every weekend I’d head out camping, skiing, hiking, climbing, etc. on my own. It was a good life. I had succeeded in mixing my passion for the outdoors with a profession that allowed me to earn a living. I enjoyed my work, but it really didn’t seem like a job. It was just what I did. It was me being me.

That’s the way it’s been now for 20 years. I’m still mixing my passion for the outdoors with a profession that allows me to make a living, modest though it may be. I’m married now. With my wife I own a house, two cars, two dogs, six bikes and enough camping gear to open another rental shop. We travel a bunch. I write stories for print, radio and the Internet. I take photographs. Editors and publishers usually pay me for my work, not a lot, but enough to get by, even in these hard times. It’s a good life.

And now that I’m in my middle ages I don’t see that changing very much. I’ve embraced the new technology and I’m laying plans to distribute more of my work over the Internet. You may have had a chance to hear my new podcast The Joy Trip Project. If not give it a listen at www.joytripproject.com. The basic idea is to tell stories about people who are devoting their lives to outdoor recreation in much the same way I have. But many of the people to whom I’ve spoken for this new project have actually made some lasting impact on the world and people who live in it.

I’ve had the pleasure of speaking to poet and naturalist Terry Tempest Williams, Time Magazine reporter Pico Iyer, philanthropist Greg Mortenson and documentary filmmaker Ken Burns. Their work has inspired millions of people around the world to strive toward peace and environmental conservation, good works for the benefit others. I just happen to have the privilege to tell their stories.

In the weeks and months to come I hope to share other amazing stories about people and institutions whose life’s work it is to make the world a better place. While my fellow journalist are telling their doom and gloom stories day after day about the crappy economy, American inspired wars on two battlefields, the health care crisis and athletes on steroids I want to continue the conversation about all the folks out there who are doing a pretty good job of tripping their way through life while making a difference in the lives of those around them.

The Joy Trip Project is my dream job. More to the point it’s my life’s work. It’s what I do and in essence now who I am, me being me. I hope you’ll come long for the ride.