A week in the woods by myself

I’m here. And truth be told I’m not quite sure what I’m doing here. But I know I’ll figure it out. I always do.

I get so distracted in the city. It’s hard for me to focus. To write. To get anything done. I try to block things out but it never seems to work. I stop checking social media and then feel left out. I turn off my phone and then feel disconnected. I take a while to respond and feel like I’m being a bad friend.

It’s hard to balance creativity in the modern day world. For me to be productive I need seclusion, I need space. I need to be in nature and get back to the simple things. To be quiet and present and one with my thoughts. The thoughts I can’t hear when I am caught up in the whirlwind of life.

So here I am. Talk about seclusion. A tiny little cabin in the middle of the woods. With no locks. No sound. The nearest store is a 25 minute drive. I walk with a flashlight on the trail to get to my car. There are no lights. No people. Just quiet.

I pulled in late last night driving dark and foggy roads. Winding up the coastline with a headlight out and no service. My eyes were strained. My head was groggy. But the music kept me going. I took it slow. I let a couple deer go by. It was fine.

It’s quite a different thing to be this secluded. To be alone in a cabin in the woods. To turn the lights out knowing there are no locks on the doors. Knowing there are no people to hear you. To fear that every creek or foreign sound could be something you’re not prepared for.

To be here is invigorating. It forces me back into the present. Back into my body. It challenges my senses and it pushes me to be aware. To be so present and so focused that there is nothing else I can do but share the thoughts in my head.

It’s weird to me that this is where I thrive the most. Out in the middle of nowhere, all on my own. I think it’s because it’s the only place I can hear myself think. The only place quiet enough for my soul to speak. For my mind to quiet. For my spirit to emerge. 

I suppose I’m just not like most people. I like to be alone. I like to adventure. I like to do things that are uncomfortable. That’s how I learn. That’s how I build confidence in who I am. I don’t like doing the status quo. I don’t like to feel restricted. I like my freedom and I like my space. I take risks. I make mistakes. I learn. 

If there is one area of my life where I haven’t taken much risk - it’s in my writing. I have always been a writer. But I haven’t been great about sharing things. And I’m starting to realize that it’s less about being ready and more about just doing it. 

I write a lot every day. I journal. I work on my book. I write little poems. I read things and dream about being someone who writes things that people actually want to read. Not because I am a literary genius. But because I share things in a raw and vulnerable way. A way that most people shy away from.

So I am here with the intention to focus. To get back to myself. To find the strength to share more. To be inspired. To get to work. To do the things I have always wanted to do. And hope that in the end it inspires others too. Because that, I think, is the greatest gift of all.

I like being human

The tension between art and fear