Does Where Ya Live Determine How Happy You Are??

I have been thinking alot lately about life here in Juneau and how 'being' here influences how I feel...

Am I happy because Juneau (as a place to live) has qualities that make me happy?? Certainly.

Would I be as happy living somewhere else?? I would hope so.

Am I just a happy person?? Geez, I hope so.

People speak and write frequently about their negative experiences of Juneau. We hear it from folks here now, folks who used to be from here and are now somewhere else, and folks whose history with the city probably isn't longer than 12 hours...

A blog I follow (http://arcticglass.blogspot.com/), written by Jill Homer, a talented writer and long-distance winter bike enthusiast here in Juneau, has given some insight into this young woman's decision to leave Juneau for Anchorage. Why should I care about her decision to move?? Why did I take her deliberation personally??

I care because a well-thought out decision that runs contrary to mine should provoke me to make an equally thoughtful re-evaluation of my own reasons and motivations. Julie and I moved up here in 2006: we did so for some profound and positive reasons. Part certainly involved a promotion and job transfer to a secure and financially comfortable posting. To Julie's immense credit, she left her job, friends and daughter in Portland and moved here with me sight-unseen. It was a change in our lives that we spent weeks discussing and weighing the choices. We gambled on the unknown and got on a ferry in Bellingham to start a new chapter together.

The negatives we are used to hearing about Juneau are pretty much these: isolation, crappy rainy weather, lack of growth, high cost of living, lack of good jobs for the younger folks, substandard medical care, a downtown whose soul has been sold out to the cruise industry, and a suburban valley whose conservative residents advocate development but never get it. Certainly Juneau lives under the Damocles sword of a threatened Capitol move, which should it ever come to pass, would truly cripple this place. And there are no roads out. This roadless isolation can start to chafe, like a small stone in the shoes of your soul... in my case after about 3 or 4 months from my last trip outside.

On the positive side: we have great jobs, and even better coworkers. Wonderful, caring neighbors. Significant and meaningful volunteer work (me with the Fire Dept, and Julie with her cancer and service organizations). Lots of friends and friends-of-friends. Stunning scenery and an abundant natural environment.

The isolation has some good consequences: greater self-reliance and pride in doing for ourselves; greater sense of ownership of what we have; a chance to live a bit more simply. I have never produced less household garbage and recycled more. Most of the seafood we eat is locally caught by someone whose name I know. I have to cook my own Indian food because there's no restaurant in town to meet my need. I don't have to tolerate billboards on the highway, or endless tracts of strip malls and fastfood. When you want something fancy or uncommon, it takes deliberation and forethought to procure, rather than just an impulse purchase. I want to think that I am more thankful for what I have.

Isolation removes distraction. I can spend my non-work time doing a few things I enjoy and value, rather than trying to do it all (just because the outside has 'everything'). I concentrate on being a safe and effective fire officer. I enjoy my outdoor toys. I walk 2 or 3 miles everyday outside with my dogs, rain or sun. I also can ignore the media hype and materialism we get from outside, because I have figured out that I can survive pretty well without 4th meal at Taco Bell, the wood fired grill at Red Lobster, the BOGO at Payless Shoes and saving at Kohl's. Come to think of it, we must be hopelessly out of step with mainstream America... and that is definitely OK with me.

I know that I turned away from the darkness when I met my Julie. Regardless of where we might have ended up, I know with every fiber of my being, that having this woman in my life makes me happy. The fight with her cancer drove home the need to celebrate everyday and never take life for granted. So, maybe Juneau itself isn't the key to my happiness. Perhaps it is just one more reason to enjoy this life. Juneau doesn't work for everyone: it didn't work for Jill. I want to think she'd agree that it works for me.

KML