We had the good fortune of connecting with Molly McGovern and we’ve shared our conversation below.
Hi Molly, we’d love to hear about how you approach risk and risk-taking
Throughout the past four years I have had several experiences that have drastically changed my concept of risk.
The first experience was my partner and I’s decision to move into a van after graduating college. We both were raised in similar environments with an expectation for excellence, but both possessed an underlying itch to challenge what was expected of us. However, after graduating we both worked jobs in our field of study. After all of that time and money spent, we felt the pressure to follow the formula expected of us. But we both felt like we had been rushed into this existence. The second you turn 18 you’re expected to know exactly what you want to do for the rest of your life and then you go to college and spend a ton of money and then it’s frowned upon if you don’t work a job in that field. So, we were on the fast-track to following the formula. Next would have to be going back to school to get our masters if we wanted to be paid more than minimum wage for our work. But that would mean more debt. More work. More staying in one place.
It felt like time was moving at hyperspeed. I couldn’t help but think there has to be more to being a young adult. I had been dreaming of living in the desert and being a river guide. It was a dream I had since I was 12 and what influenced most of my summer jobs as a kayak guide and outdoor educator. I couldn’t help but think about how risky it would be to give up all we had worked towards in our science careers to follow that dream.
But one day I came upon a quote that would change the course of my life.
“Then there is the most dangerous risk of all.
The risk of spending your life not doing what you want,
on the bet you can buy yourself the freedom to do it later.” (Randy Komisar)
I texted my partner that day with a simple suggestion: “do you want to sell everything we own, move into a van and become river guides in Moab, Utah?” He texted me back immediately saying “sure, why not?”
We’ve been living in Moab ever since taking that big leap. We spent two years living in our van. After our first season river guiding in Moab we were able to save up enough money just by not paying rent to travel for 6 months without working. We drove all the way to the tip of the Baja peninsula in Mexico, surfed every day for two months straight, lived on the streets of San Diego and met incredibly kind people who taught us important life skills, went climbing all over the southwest, guided in the Grand Tetons and Yellowstone National Parks. All while having everything we own rattling around behind us in tupperware bins as we bumped down dirt roads on public land to find home for the night. We met so many incredible people and got to know ourselves and each other so much more in those two years than we had the prior four years. It was powerful to see how little we really needed to feel fulfilled: how little water we needed to use, how little money we needed when it wasn’t being thrown away every month for rent, how few things we needed to have fun together.
From a lot of people’s perspective, we were risking everything. We gave up everything we had been raised by society to covet. Stability, community, financial security, housing, retirement savings, and even hygiene. But to us, we know it would have been riskier to stay on that formulated path. Always wondering what this life would have been like. The greater risk would have been not doing this.
I will take a moment to acknowledge that there is a ton of privilege in taking this kind of risk. To choose a less comfortable life is absolutely a huge sign of privilege and there is not a day that goes by that I don’t think about that. But to have the opportunity to be a kinder, better, more fulfilled version of myself and not choose to be that is a disservice to myself and my community.
This experience as well as two other consecutive events were absolutely necessary for me to gain the perspective on risk I needed to start my own business.
While we were living in the van, I experienced the sudden deaths of both a childhood friend and an amazing cousin. This was my first time truly grasping how fragile life is, and how quickly it could be taken away from any of us. It was a terrible way to be reminded of the impermanence of this life, but a very important reminder that there is no guarantee of “someday”. When we bet that we can “buy ourselves the freedom to do it later” we are betting that there is a “later”. Death is one of the most important realities to acknowledge if we are to truly live.
The second big event that really pushed me to re-think risk was the Covid-19 pandemic.
When the pandemic hit in 2020, we lost our employment and gave up on being professional guides. While I was unemployed, I turned to the one thing I have been interested in my whole life – the activity I turn to when all else falls away: making art. What started as a way to raise money for non-profits during the pandemic quickly became what my life was revolving around. I had found a relatively stable job once the pandemic slowed down, but I continued to make art on the side. The intention behind what I was making was to cherish connection with each other and with ourselves. I made postcards so folks could write notes to their loved ones that they were missing and couldn’t visit. I was making earrings with rattlesnake vertebrae to symbolize our ability to shed what no longer serves us. It was clear that these concepts spoke to people. It started with just friends, family and acquaintances purchasing my creations but quickly evolved into more and more people who I’d never met being interested. A few local and regional stores were reaching out to stock my items. I was being faced with another opportunity to assess risk.
I was initially looking at this conflict as: do I risk my stable employment that I’ve recently found to pursue making art full-time? But, as I thought back to my favorite quote, the experience of living in the van, and the sudden death of loved ones, I realized I wasn’t looking at the situation through the correct lens. The question then flipped and became: do I risk the joy of making art that gives back to my community for the ease and societal acceptance of working a normal desk job? I took a hard look at my values and decided it is riskier to not pursue something that directly gives me purpose and joy in my life, and allows me to donate to local non-profits that benefit the region’s environment and people.
To understand risk, I’ve learned I must first have a deep knowing of my values and goals. To know what kind of life it is I want to lead… what kind of person I want to be. To understand what is more important to me: experiences or money? Fulfillment or stability? What’s more risky? Staying in a job that makes me miserable just so I can have a 401-k? Or completely sacrificing stability so my daily life is filled with experiences that bring me joy and allow me the energy to give back to my community? Having control over the sustainability practices of my work or just working for a business/company that is mostly concerned with profit?
I am so grateful for these experiences that have gifted me with this life-changing perspective of risk.
Let’s talk shop? Tell us more about your career, what can you share with our community?
I officially started my business, Coyote Crafted, this past February of 2022. At Coyote Crafted I design and create handcrafted jewelry and art inspired by the desert. The desert is a place of solitude – a place of adaptability and resilience. A place where everything is exposed – including ourselves. Through handcrafted earrings with desert motifs, original photography, collage, and digital illustration I aim to capture the sights, sounds, smells and feelings of this place. My art serves as small reminders of experiences that either show us our true selves, or humble us in the presence of a vast world that the desert represents so well.
What started as a way to raise money for non-profits during the pandemic quickly became what my life was revolving around. The original intention behind what I was making was connection with each other and with ourselves. I made postcards so folks could write notes to their loved ones that they were missing and couldn’t visit. I was making earrings with rattlesnake vertebrae to symbolize our ability to shed what no longer serves us. It was clear that these concepts spoke to people. It started with just friends, family and acquaintances purchasing my creations but quickly evolved into more and more people who I’d never met being interested. A few local and regional stores were reaching out to stock my items.
It was not an easy decision, but through my understanding of what “risk” really means, I decided it was riskier to not pursue this path of being an artist. It was riskier to let this opportunity pass me by. I am so grateful for the support of my partner Zac, who from day one has encouraged me to do this and has loved me in a way that has shown me what my best self looks like.
It is a surreal feeling to see how all of the paths in my life have converged to this moment in time. As a kid, making art was by far my favorite hobby. In college, I studied environmental conservation. After graduating, I worked as a research scientist and then a river guide on the Colorado river here in Moab, Utah. Now, I get to make art every day, and a portion of every purchase is donated quarterly to a rotation of non-profits that support regional environmental conservation, education and advocacy. And through the internet, I am lucky enough to raise awareness about environmental or cultural issues in the desert southwest and connect us all to this place we all love and cherish. Starting this business was the best decision I have ever made for myself – it has allowed me to find my niche in my community while staying true to myself and my values.
Any places to eat or things to do that you can share with our readers? If they have a friend visiting town, what are some spots they could take them to?
I live in Moab, Utah, which is just under two hours on I-70 from Colorado. Moab is not known for its food/drink or happenings. It is known however for some amazing natural wonders and recreation opportunities. My favorite thing to do with friends or family visiting is to grab some take-out from either of my two favorite restaurants in town – 98 Center for delicious asian fusion or Giliberto’s for authentic mexican burritos and drive up to Dead Horse Point State Park to watch the sunset over the beautiful overlook at a horseshoe bend on the Colorado River. A nice morning would look like grabbing coffee at Snakeoil Coffee Co’s drive thru and heading up to Arches National Park and watch sunrise from underneath Delicate Arch (it’s totally worth the hype to see this arch). Back in town we could grab a to-go lunch from Moonflower Community Cooperative, a small health-foods grocery store, or head across the street to check out Moab Made (a store full of incredible local artists’ goods). A really fun way to spend a hot day is to get out on the 12 mile section of river near town that my partner and I used to guide on, called the Daily – it has class i-iii rapids and some of the best views in the world. Another way to escape the heat is to drive the La Sal Mountain loop road – you can find yourself amongst towering ponderosa pines and mountain wildflowers, with a 15 degree temperature drop in about 40 minutes from town. One of the most important part about sharing where I live with visitors is educating them on how to recreate safely and respectfully in the desert. There are just some things you have to keep in mind that you might not know if you’re visiting from a different environment. For example, you have to drink much more water than you typically do since it is so hot and dry – a gallon per person per day is a good go-to. Also, you have to tread very lightly and stay on trail at all times. Cryptobiotic soil is a living soil that takes hundreds of years to form and is the only reason that there is any vegetation that can take root and grow in the desert. Stepping on it or driving over it will kill it and it can take hundreds of years for it to reform again. And also to respectfully observe any of the incredible cultural resources in the area such as petroglyphs, pictographs, or remnants of dwellings. You can not touch them or alter them, and you have to leave everything where you find it to preserve our areas cultural heritage. There are tons of places to view these resources, and it is definitely one of the most incredibly humbling aspects of living here – to be reminded that really we all are just visitors.
Who else deserves some credit and recognition?
I want to dedicate my shoutout to Rebecca, the owner of the store Moab Made here in Moab, Utah. Rebecca has encouraged countless fledging artists to put their creations in her store – a collective of local and regional artist’s jewelry, art, and all kinds of creations. Sometimes we need someone else to believe in us before we can even begin to believe in ourselves. Rebecca was the first person (outside of my amazing partner) who confidently told me my work was worth putting into the world. Thank you for taking a chance on me and giving me the vulnerable experience of putting my creations into a store that so many locals and tourists cherish.
Website: coyotecrafted.com
Instagram: @coyotecrafted
Facebook: @coyotecraftedmoab
Other: My website is currently under development at www.coyotecrafted.com But I use etsy (@coyotecraftedmoab) as my current shop platform where I do monthly shop updates (where everything becomes available at a specific date/time for a limited time). I post when these shop updates will happen through instagram and facebook.