The first time we heard Arkansas mentioned as a desirable place to live, we were in the depths of Big Bend National Park at the very southern tip of Texas. We’d hit the midway point of a 7 mile out-and-back hike and were resting in the shade eating clementines and trail mix. Our resting stop companions were families and groups of couples also pausing in the shade before heading back up the trail in the 80ºF sun. Honey had struck up conversation with a friendly couple from Texas (people from Texas are seriously some of warmest and friendliest people we’ve met on our travels) and the man was asking about the purpose of our road trip and what places we planned to visit. He had attended the University of Arkansas at Fayetteville in his youth and mentioned that if he had to pick anywhere in the US to live, northwest Arkansas, or NWA as the locals call it, would be his top choice.
Having no preconceived notions about states with reputations as poor and culturally backwards, Honey accepted the suggestion as entirely reasonable and placed NWA on our list of possibilities. During the next several months, he researched and compared while we completed our grand tour of the US. When we finally made it to NWA last fall, we learned for ourselves just what good advice that Texan man had given, and quickly agreed that this was the right place for us. We then spent nearly five months in northern Indiana rehabbing two of our rental properties and getting our affairs in order. On the last day of February, we set out towards our new home, packed to the brim with our Casita in tow.
Our arrival in NWA, like so many of our well-laid plans, went completely awry and we found ourselves in a mad scramble to arrange new lodgings and storage for our camper when the property we’d hoped to purchase didn’t work out. One morning of online searching and a quick phone call pulled up a very affordable apartment in Rogers, a town we’d spent some time in on our previous trip and liked a great deal. After a swift and painless approval process, we semi-unpacked and moved our dear Casita to a secure storage space. Everything started falling into place, and within a couple of weeks, we also had the exact jobs we had hoped to find. It’s amazing how things shift once you get back into the flow and stop fighting for things that aren’t the right fit.
One of the big selling points for me, was the abundance in NWA of local farms growing food in ways that care for the soil rather than destroy it. Farmers who follow regenerative practices and work to help other farmers make the jump from conventional methods like tillage and chemical use. It’s a field with so much creative potential, but it can be a long, expensive, and tricky process to shift away from conventional agriculture with its one-size-fits-all approach, and promise of government subsidies. Farming communities are notorious for loathing change, but thanks to a revival of earth-centered methods, a new generation of farmers is coming through with a desire to do things differently.
The farm where we buy our raw milk has been farmed by the same family for 4 generations. Shifting to food produced through pasture rotation and zero chemicals healed the eldest daughter of severe autoimmune issues. Another group we buy from is a collective of farmers who each produce different meats and crops, selling together to provide their customers with more variety and create easier access to markets for the farmers involved. There are so many ways to build networks for local, healthy food, and we’re excited to be weaving ourselves into this tapestry here.
Although vital, our enthusiasm for this place is by no means restricted to the quality of our food. The number of activities available within a 90-minute drive keeps us more than occupied. Hiking, mountain biking, fishing canoeing, kayaking, freshwater diving, hot air ballooning, climbing, hunting, horseback riding, aviation clubs, restaurants, wineries, breweries, cideries, distilleries, concerts, music festivals, art galleries, comedy clubs, churches, farmer’s markets, art and history museums, art talks, coffeeshops, independent bookstores and clothing shops, flea markets and antique stores, theatre, opera, symphony… The list goes on and on. For an area with a population of around 300,000 spread across 5 cities those are some serious goings on!
Being here and being able to settle into our own space and a weekly routine has brought us a sense of peace after our nearly 3 years of tumult and travel. When I look back through the pictures of the things we did and the places we visited, it throws me into a state of amazement. We had such full, rich experiences on the road, and I recommend that everyone take a long extended trip somewhere at least once in their lives. The flip side of that trip was the deep longing we had to find our own place, to be able to put down roots, to build new friendships and forge bonds as part of a community outside our little family of 3.
We’ve found Arkansans to be curious and kind, welcoming and unequivocally polite. “Yes, ma’am” or “No, sir” find their way into every verbal encounter. Instead of saying, “Thank you,” many people say, “I appreciate you,” which feels, in some ways, quaint, but also more personal. We’ve seen people go out of their way to help each other, like a truck driver who hollered out his window at a family pulled over one Friday afternoon, “Are y’all broke down?” and then offered to tow them to the nearest repair shop.
That concept, community, is something I spend a lot of time thinking about these days. How community forms, how it takes shape, the rules that regulate behavior, how those rules get enforced, how changes are integrated or rejected within the boundaries of the community, the cost of breaking the rules. There is a community I belonged to when I was younger that was a central part of how I related to the world. Some of the relationships I formed there carried me through the past 15 years of my life and informed a lot of my previous views on human nature and what it meant to live in integrity in the world. In the past three years, since the emergence of the Covid craze, but moving now into all of the current hot-button topics that monopolize public discourse, that community has turned into something I barely recognize. I see people justifying behavior that I find appalling, and any objection, any disagreement, any questioning even, is met with shaming, guilt-tripping, blacklisting, bullying, cancellation and censorship. I’m left wondering, “Did I change, or is this always how this community operated and I was just blind to it because I was on the inside?” If I engaged in this type of behavior in the past (and it seems likely that I must have), like many people on the other side of emotional growth, I’m embarrassed by how immature and childish that past version of myself seems now.
Something I’ve found in the past three years, and more recently through my work at the garden center, with coworkers who are across the board in so many ways, who have struggles and background stories that could keep a nosy columnist occupied for weeks, is that a good measure of a person’s convictions is how well they tolerate opposition and disagreement. Someone whose beliefs are grounded in themselves, rather than in imitation of those around them, isn’t threatened when others don’t share those beliefs. They can have serious debates and conversations without ever resorting to emotional or verbal violence, without ever calling into question the other person’s value, morals, or loyalty.
Disagreement isn’t perceived as dangerous and no one spends their time crying victim, or counting the ways in which the other party has caused offense. This seems to be more often true of people who also have a strong religious or spiritual practice, whose identity isn’t based on other people’s affirmations, but on a connection to the divine that transcends human relationships. I have observed that firmness of belief most often in people who don’t spend all of their time with others who think and vote like them. Moreover, people whose views aren’t dependent on “popular” opinion show genuine curiosity towards those whose views differ. The most evolved people I’ve met (I’m by no means claiming to be among them), not only show curiosity, but seem to experience genuine enthusiasm when they learn something that changes their views. I find that attitude to be profoundly admirable and encouraging. It shows what can happen when we untether our minds and our need for approval and belonging from the opinions of others and learn to think for ourselves.
Under the guise of “doing good,” people justify terrible behaviors. We have evidence of this all over our media and social networks, so perhaps such behavior getting normalized makes it harder for people to recognize when they cross the line, or maybe the filter of technology dehumanizes the object of their ire enough that they don’t care. We’re all Braveheart behind our screens, but who really has the backbone to shame and cancel their loved ones when they’re in disagreement face-to-face? In an excellent podcast mini-series I listened to last month1, the interviewer recalls her own poor behavior during her time with the Westboro Baptist Church in the early 2000s, when the fight for gay rights was the hot topic on every news outlet. She tells the story of how she came to reconsider her position and her views and how that journey sparked in her a deep curiosity for the stories we tell ourselves and how we ever arrive at the certainty that anything we believe is true.
The past 3 years have changed me, and I thank heavens for that. That period of growth and reckoning has given me enough distance and perspective to see how my old community has shifted into a pitiful obsession over identity politics and moral busybodying. There is so much more breathing room when you’re not surrounded by people who measure belonging in degrees of obligatory agreement. I’m grateful that I’ve learned to seek people out who push and challenge my thinking and opinions, and although that process hasn’t necessarily been pleasant, it has taught me many things. I would never go back to the comfortable delusions that used to buffet me from reality.
Beware of people who only tell you the things you want to hear, who only ever agree with your nonsense and follies. They are neither being kind, nor sincere, and more often than not, they are benefitting in some way, at your expense.
Moving on.
As we did on our trip across the US, we’ve been spending as much time as we can out of doors. There are tons of great hikes in the State parks all around us and creeks and streams and rivers and lakes seemingly around every bend in the road. A couple of weeks ago, Honey found a sweet riverside park in a little town called West Fork about 35 minutes south of our apartment. During dry stretches, the water is crystal clear and the swimming is gorgeous. We’ve had lots of rain this month, so when we went on Saturday, it was more of a muddy affair. A lot of the creeks and rivers in this part of the Ozarks are rain fed, and there were several small waterfalls pouring down the bluff as we sat and soaked up the sun. At one point I saw a snake swimming towards the bank and was relieved that neither of us was in the water. My nervousness turned out to be misplaced when we identified it as a non venemous queen snake, but there are water moccasins around here, so I was glad it wasn’t a close encounter. My sister would never forgive me if I didn’t do my utmost to avoid death by snakebite!
One of the most beautiful places we’ve been so far in Arkansas is the Buffalo National River. Last year the park celebrated it’s 50th anniversary as the first National River in the US. The entire 135 mile length of the Buffalo is undammed, something that took nearly 30 years to enshrine into law. It’s one of the states’ major tourism draws with nearly 1.5 million visitors every year, and one of the best places to experience the variety of activities the Ozarks have to offer. A great documentary on the 30 year fight to protect the Buffalo can be found here. The tenacity and resourcefulness of the people who took on that project is a testament to the things ordinary people can achieve when they are motivated by things that transcend their short lifespans. A separate and more recent documentary showcases the outdoor activities people practice in the park. Through some beautiful footage, this second film gives a sense of some of the incredible landscapes that surround the Buffalo River and some of the reasons it’s considered such a treasure to Arkansans of all backgrounds.
All in all, we feel we made the right choice to move here. We’re making our home, brainstorming business venture ideas, and getting to know our new landscapes. We hope you’ll visit, or at the very least, follow along as I share some more of what we love about this place.
Reader beware: I was lambasted for promoting this podcast on Facebook. Proceed at the risk of exposing your mind to a thought-provoking interview. I may or may not agree with any or all of the views expressed by the many people interviewed. I leave it to you to make up your own mind about the contents if you take it upon yourself to listen. So dangerous! So subversive! I know.