Earlier this month, one of my literary heroes died.
Wendell Berry was an undefinable persona on this planet, someone who didn’t fit well into any given category or school of thought.
He was a world-class writer, and a world-class farmer.
He was critical of the Republicans and the Democrats.
He was an optimist and a brutal realist.
He was a faithful Christian but also cared deeply for the physical world.
More than anything, Wendell liked to keep things simple.
Since his passing earlier this month, one of his quotes has been running through my head over and over again: 'I am a man of small ambitions compared to those who want to conquer the earth or the stars. I only want to keep my farm from washing down the river.'
We live in a world of lofty ambitions.
From a young age, we’re told that we can do anything and we’re expected to accomplish everything.
We celebrate the innovators and the rebels, the personalities and the “disruptors.”
The root of this attitude is probably wellfounded, but the result is a person who looks to the stars without ever knowing where they stand.
Ironically, Wendell Berry was a “disruptor” because he wasn’t looking to disrupt anything.
He moved from a lofty position in New York City back to his family farm in Kentucky.
He never bought a computer.
He preferred to use mules to plow his fields, in lieu of a tractor.
Most importantly, he chose to study his world deeply instead of seeking to know the whole world casually.
If that’s not countercultural, I don’t know what is.
With another fall season on the way, Wendell’s viewpoint has been at the forefront of my mind.
As hunters, we fall prey to the same traps that Wendell sought to avoid.
We’re told that “real” hunters shoot recordbreaking deer, or travel to remote locales to hunt their target.
We’re told that we don’t just want the latest compound bow.
We need it.
And maybe the most dangerous lie of all is that it's not good enough to just enjoy hunting for hunting’s sake.
We have to do more and do it better than anyone else.
It’s not just hunting any more.
It’s a hunting career.
As someone who’s burned out by the “grind” mindset in corporate America, I’ll be the first to say that the last thing I need to carry into the deer woods with me is ambition.
I’ve had my fill of it.
I just want to carry my bow, unfounded optimism and a few Little Debbies for when I get hungry.
Is ambition a bad thing?
No, but it can be if you’re letting the world tell you what to be ambitious about.
If I’ve learned one thing, it’s that the world is generally wrong.
Don’t let an online forum or podcast tell you how you should or shouldn’t feel about your outdoor pursuits.
Don’t let social media trends drive what interests you.
Don’t look to the stars for direction—follow the well-worn trail the deer have cut over the years. Their only “followers” come with teeth and claws, so it’s safe to say they know better. When Wendell Berry spoke of “small ambitions,” I think he meant it with a wink.
He knew what mattered: faith, family and the ground we call home.
Maybe he meant that we shouldn’t move on to “bigger” and “better” things until we truly understand where we’re moving from, and that’s one ambition I want to carry with me into the woods this hunting season.
As hunters, campers, hikers, and anglers, let’s “strive” to know the difference between a red oak and a white oak.
Let’s “grind” to be able to identify native grasses or orient ourselves via the stars.
Let’s “aspire” to stay warm in our sleeping bags and learn how the wildlife moves across the landscape in order that we can follow suit.
Wendell also said, “Nobody can discover the world for somebody else.”
There’s a real world out there, and it’s worth knowing.
And we can’t truly know it until we spend time in it.
All this is to say, I truly hope you have a great fall.
I hope you spend it in the places where dropping acorns outnumber deadlines, and the rustle of falling leaves drowns out the calls for following our dreams.
More than anything, I hope you can discover what truly holds value in this world.
This side of eternity, there’s a good chance that you’re standing on it.
Steve Schwartz is a writer and photographer based in Aubrey. His work has been featured by MeatEater, Field & Stream, Popular Science, Game & Fish, The Fly Fish Journal, American Angler and many more. You can reach him at steve@ironsightcreative. com.
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