“I learned this, at least, by my experiment: that if one advances confidently in the direction of his dreams, and endeavors to live the life which he has imagined, he will meet with a success unexpected in common hours.” _ Henry David Thoreau
In the midst of it, I didn't stop to consider it an experiment, but rather the testing of all I had believed and for which I had prepared what seemed my entire life. It was the "pause in time" that gave me the opportunity to see if what I had always believed about myself was indeed the truth. The global pandemic that started in 2020 and spilled over into 2021 in many ways put the whole world on pause. While I never would have chosen this particular event to be the catalyst that pushed me into my year of testing, I entered into it with determination and even a bit of eagerness, knowing it was a now or never event.
An avid reader from a very young age, I was given the book ON WALDEN POND by Henry David Thoreau when I was just on the cusp of becoming a teenager. The book made a huge impact on me, which is interesting considering I was so young. I identified, even then, with the author's love of the natural world and his need to withdraw and analyze life without distraction. To me, this idea of spending a year or two alone seemed ideal. As an introvert, I cherish my alone time and what could be more revealing than having long periods of time without external distractions?
As an adult in my twenties, I stretched things as far as I could without actually taking the leap into total isolation. There were periods of time when I lived in Alaska that I camped out for weeks and sometimes months, accompanying my ex husband as he worked remotely. We lived very primitively during those times in a tent or camper, without running water or electricity in wilderness surroundings. For a while, we lived in a cabin in the old gold mining area of Fairbanks where we had to haul our water to a house with no indoor plumbing. I spent weeks isolated from everyone except my children, washing clothes in a wringer washer with water hauled from several miles away and hanging the clothes on a line across the top of the cabin to dry. I even went so far as to join my partner in buying remote land in the Alaskan wilderness accessible only by crossing the Tanana river by boat in the summer and traversing the ice in the winter. We talked about living off grid and subsisting off the land and while I had a great desire to test myself in this capacity, I feared for the safety of my then very small children. Ultimately, I chose to live in areas where we could have medical care within a reasonable driving distance. A part of me greatly regrets that I did not make the time before I had children to test myself in this capacity and truly immerse myself in a completely isolated and remote setting for a long period of time.
So, while the pandemic did not offer me the setting of a remote, Alaskan wilderness, I was eager to test my mind, my resourcefulness, and my ability to withdraw, giving space for the things that are so often choked out by our interactive schedules. Perhaps, it wasn't so much that I hadn't already tested myself in those days back in Alaska, but that I wanted to return to it once again. Like Thoreau, I have always wanted to live deliberately.
“I went to the woods because I wished to live deliberately, to front only the essential facts of life, and see if I could not learn what it had to teach, and not, when I came to die, discover that I had not lived.”
― Walden
While not a couple who spends a lot of time socializing, Mike and I socialized even less during the pandemic. There was little reason to leave our farm. and we settled in and decided to make the most of it. What I discovered was that I was prepared mentally, emotionally and physically for the challenge of isolating, and while so many people were in panic mode about being forced to restrict their lives, I was ready. We threw ourselves into the homestead life with a fervency and completeness that we had not done previously. Oh, we had always grown our beef and pork and the majority of our vegetables but we had known we could always supplement easily by buying from the grocery store. Things never actually got so bleak during the pandemic that we didn't have options, but mostly we chose not to use those options, instead making do with what we had and what we could do ourselves. We put nothing in the freezers or on the shelves of our cellar that we did not grow or raise. In the end, we had enough for ourselves in abundance, enough to sell, and enough to give away to others. Our farm became neater, cleaner, and more organized than it has ever been. We found time to approach hobbies and interests we had abandoned. And interestingly enough. we found effective and meaningful ways to communicate our love and care for those around us that seemed less strained than in the past. Relationships were mended and/or enhanced through conscious effort by allowing myself the extra time to commit to them. Even my more extroverted husband declared that he liked staying home. We enjoyed the closeness that we experienced facing the uncertain times together.
Of course, there were days of fear, days of worry, days of stress, and those days when Mike or I got on each other's nerves. We watched people we know become very ill and struggle to regain their health. We saw our adult children struggle with various issues created by the pandemic including depression, isolation, feelings of being overwhelmed, and loss of income. And, I personally sat by my dear grandmother's bedside as she passed from this life to the next as her body gave in to the complications caused by contracting Covid. We despaired over the divisions in our country and felt the sting of divided community both locally, nationally, and globally.
As things began to open up and continue to progress toward "normal", I felt a sense of loss. Of course, I am happy that things are getting better and I know that my little "experiment" was played out safely within the confines of a well established farm where we are greatly "privileged" to be able to have more independence and security than most. I recognize that had I spent a year locked in a small apartment with extended family in a high rise looking out over a major metropolis, that my perspective would be completely different. (At one time in my life, I spent a few months living several floors up in an apartment near downtown Chicago. I don't pretend to be able to live an isolated life in those circumstances. Living rural and in many ways in "privilege" in surroundings in which I am comfortable meant I could live apart without feeling some of the fear and angst that others were feeling.)
“I find it wholesome to be alone the greater part of the time. To be in company, even with the best, is soon wearisome and dissipating. I love to be alone. I never found the companion that was so companionable as solitude.”
― Walden
As summer is in full swing and people extract themselves from what became mandated seclusion for so many, I see people rushing forward to fill their lives with as much activity as possible. I remember feeling a bit of sadness and even some panic as we began to receive the news that restrictions were going to be relaxed and the world would once again attempt to interact in the ways in which we had all become so familiar before the pandemic. I can see and understand that community and interaction with others is important to our well being as humans. I understand that we are social creatures and truly not meant to live our lives alone. However, I am not sure that it is in our best interest to fill our lives to the capacity that we fill them. I, in fact, believe that our lifestyle of being consistently and constantly engaged is like a drug we use to dull our senses and distract us from many of the beautiful things life has to offer. If we will just learn to be comfortable alone with our thoughts and feelings, we are well on our way to a contentment that is more solid and long lasting than the temporary distractions we use to mask our pain. I had hoped that the forced slowness for many during the pandemic would in fact teach us all to value the quieter times as a whole, but it mostly seems that isn't the case.
I hope that a time of solitude has taught me to engage more whole heartedly in the activities in which I choose to be involved, but I will continue to look for ways that I can withdraw, be less involved in unnecessary activities, and give myself the chance to venture back to "Walden Pond" as often as possible. Like Thoreau, "I find it wholesome to be alone the greater part of the time."
Note: Ultimately my writing is for my grandchildren at a time when they are older (and perhaps I am passed from this life) when they might want to know more about me than what they can recall from their own memories. My summations and musings are personal and may not fit the personality or lifestyle of another. Like the reader, I am a unique individual and what is best for me may not be best suited for others. I do believe, however, that 2020 had lessons to teach us all and if we have failed to grasp what those lessons were, we will be forced to repeat them until we learn them or die having failed to achieve the wisdom that was there for us if we would only partake.)
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