Posted on April 19, 2016
October 6, 2015 – Finland, Minnesota
Sober October is so much easier in the middle of the woods.
It was a year ago when I stumbled upon the cause, riding through the London Underground in late September. Oddly enough, I saw the ad for “Sober October” on my way back to our hostel, as I forgot my credentials – things that are most definitely required to attend a pub crawl. Help people with cancer and give my liver a break for a month? Good idea.
Spending that October with my Californian family was a bit challenging, but I persevered. I couldn’t remember the last time I went an entire month without having a drink. Probably before I actually started drinking at 19. Ten years ago. Not that I would say I have a drinking problem per se, but it served as a nice reminder of being in control of oneself. Bodily mastery.
Could I go for two months next year?
I decided that I would make it an annual practice, and it will likely be much easier this year. After all, I should be spending most of my time this month away from civilization, dealing with next to no stress, and receiving zero peer pressure. That, and I find it much easier to say no to someone if I’ve never drank with them before. Which is what I had to do with my new host, who has a couple beers every night with dinner.
A small price to pay.
“No man is free who is not master of himself.” – Epictetus
Posted on April 12, 2016
October 5, 2015 – Finland, Minnesota
I can’t believe people do this.
I’m being chauffeured up the most ridiculous “road” I’ve ever encountered – an old logging road that hasn’t been maintained in years. My driver is a friend of my new hosts; he lives in a tepee on their property. What an interesting dude. I have a lot of questions for him, but I can’t get over how treacherous this road is. After fifteen minutes or so, we arrive at the residence known as “The Long Haul.”
How appropriate.
It’s then that I meet the family – Steven and Amelia, and their kids, Galvin and Genavive. Their home is a modified cabin, consisting of a loft area, kitchen/dining area, front room, and a porch. A very small and efficient space for four. I made it right in time for dinner: bear lentil soup. What will this month have in store for me?
I’m introduced to my living quarters immediately following dinner. For someone who now considers himself a minimalist, it’s almost perfect – a structure built on a trailer that contains two bunk beds, some storage areas, and a tiny kitchen area equipped with a wood stove. There’s a light, and there are outlets for my electronics. Solar power provides the electricity. No running water. This will do just fine. Steven demonstrates how to operate the stove and wishes me goodnight. I reciprocate.
I start a fire and get into bed, wondering how my time here will measure up to my last host.
“A person needs at intervals to separate himself from family and companions and go to new places. He must go without familiars in order to be open to influences, to change.” – Katharine Butler Hathaway
Posted on March 12, 2016
September 15, 2015 – Finland, Minnesota
This can’t be happening.
I’m holding a past lover in my arms, wading through a public swimming pool. We must be on a romantic getaway… but where? Just us? As I start questioning the reality of this situation more and more, the dream quickly ends. These seem to be happening more often as of late…
…what do they signify?
I’ve already reached the halfway mark with my new hosts. We’ve spent most of our work hours harvesting vegetables and divvying them out in shares for delivery. I’ve also been fortunate enough to participate in some farm-related activities such as attending a farmer’s market in town, a harvest festival in Duluth, and a ceremony for a nearby environmental learning center, of which David and Lise (my hosts) are heavily attached to. I haven’t witnessed this level of community in a long time. Being a CSA farm (community-supported agriculture), Round River and those involved with it act as a driving force behind the local community. Truly inspiring.
…Maybe that’s it?
These dreams feature past love interests whom I was connected to during a time in which I thought of myself as being fully integrated into a community. Going on walks around the neighborhood with the individuals I supported. Attending the special olympics with them. Organizing their social gatherings.
Is it just a natural subconscious defense mechanism to call upon such cherished memories when I’m currently feeling like an outsider in such a tight-knit community? Feeling more and more alone as I venture out from familiar territory?
“We have all known the long loneliness and we have learned that the only solution is love and that love comes with community.” – Dorothy Day
Posted on March 2, 2016
September 7, 2015 – Finland, Minnesota
From riches to rags.
Well, not exactly. But this is quite the opposite set-up compared to my last host. The community cabin for the farm workers has no running water, no bathroom, limited electricity due to the solar panels…
…God, we’re so spoiled.
Being in a place like this serves as a nice wake-up call for a guy who has been living in “modern society” his entire life. There’s an outhouse out back. We have to boil water to wash dishes. Laundry is hung on railings to dry. Fridge space is… lacking. At least there’s internet access.
Even with less amenities, however, this place would still be worth spending time in. This is my first experience along the north shore of Minnesota, and it truly is beautiful. Waterfalls, mountains, endless forests, Lake Superior. I’d gladly give up some modern conveniences for this.
I received a warm welcome from the crew: a guitar-playing hippie dude, a dumpster-diving girl on a bicycle trip across America, and a few other seemingly normal individuals. Speaking of giving up conveniences… could I ever do something like that? I’m sitting here talking about fridge space, and this girl is biking from farm to farm across the country with a couple backpacks and a tent. Now that’s minimalism. She’s telling us stories about getting kicked out of parks when trying to get some sleep. Getting denied when asking for fruit that was being thrown into a trash can at a grocery store.
What a brave individual.
I used to think that people of her character were somewhat poor or piteous. Low. It wasn’t until I started living a semi-homeless lifestyle that my opinion on the matter truly shifted. Now I strive to be more like this type of person. Making hard life choices to encourage sustainability. Efficiency. Minimalism.
Freedom.
“In the West, you have bigger homes, yet smaller families; you have endless conveniences – yet you never seem to have any time. You can travel anywhere in the world, yet you don’t bother to cross the road to meet your neighbors.” – Tenzin Gyatso, 14th Dalai Lama
Posted on February 25, 2016
August 12, 2015 – Crosslake, Minnesota
Before we know it, we see another meteor.
What an incredible night. One of my friends hosted a fire/party tonight, which led up to a midnight boat ride on one of the clearest nights I’ve seen in a long time. He tells us that we’re watching the Perseids meteor shower, which stem from the Perseus constellation. He mentions the Pleiades star cluster. I’m trying to listen, but I’m also very entranced with the evening. This is the highlight of my summer.
Someone starts playing music, but I ask them to turn it off. Can we just enjoy this pristine moment for a minute? I can’t remember the last time I star-gazed. So serene. Tranquil. I never went to a camp as a kid, but this summer feels pretty close to what I imagine that would be like. I’ve made some incredible friends, and I’ve spent more time outside than I have in… years?
I will miss this place and these people, but I don’t plan on coming back.
As much as I’d like to, I can’t. I know that I struggle in these kinds of environments. I get washed up in the party culture. Easily influenced. Even if I wasn’t planning on moving to a new state next year, it would be a bad idea to spend more time here. It’s bad enough that I have a genetic predisposition for developing alcoholism.
We dock the boat and decide to take a dip in the water. A perfect end to the evening. A perfect end to the summer. I keep thinking how grateful I am to be here, but also how excited I am to move on. There’s so much more to see. More to do.
More stars to gaze upon.
“If you abide in one particular place, you’re stuck, because you’re attached. On the other hand, if you abide everywhere, in the whole world, you’re not attached to anything, so you’re free. As soon as you get attached… you’re abiding somewhere and the suffering begins.” – Bernie Glassman
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