Something about this time of year makes me want to abandon all knowledge and possessions and just wander off into the woods to see if I can survive. Days go by and I’m not sure if I remembered to eat, or if the sun actually rose. Sometimes it’s because I was focusing so hard on a given project or task, and the sun makes its low arc nearly unnoticed. I like winter so much better when I’m focused. Then there are the days where I am waiting on something, sitting on the edge of my seat, idle and lost, having filtered through most of my to-dos, and it’s on those days when I most want to go primal and forget all civilization and technology.
The main character in a book I just read sort of did just that, so maybe I am taking some inspiration from her. Only in her case, it was a sort of post-traumatic stress disorder thing, a reaction to a horrific event, causing her to follow instinct, abandon home alongside her loyal dog, and wander into the woods, barefoot, at the start of winter. Magic intervenes and a shelter appears, and a third of the story is spent describing the hardship of arriving at a remote, abandoned, one-room mountaintop shed in a blizzard, body broken, one arm useless, with no footwear, and in something of a bathrobe that has to be torn to shreds in order to clean the floor. I could sort of relate to this.
Something in me is prone to wanting to just leave. It’s a bit of a miracle I’ve managed to stay married for eleven years. Or maybe just a testament to the patience of my husband, who has heard me express such thoughts multiple times. People get away with abandoning situations (and families, and loved ones) by claiming all sorts of not-necessarily-true reasons. I don’t know why mine have never seemed to work. I think about leaving and then I start thinking about taking everyone with me. I imagine arriving at the remote mountaintop with the three children, cats and husband, and then the fantasy falls apart. My mind’s ear hears their complaints about the lack of amenities and routine. Oh yeah, and what about income? Or education?
I read once about a home-schooling family that is somehow able to spend its days yachting around the world. How nice for them. The children, no doubt, never have any issues like mine do: when we lived in a semi-rural area, they pined away for “going downtown.” Now that we are in a dense city setting, it’s farmland they want. Naturally, when it’s winter, they want summer, and when it’s summer, they want to play Antarctica Kids. As long as we are going through the Opposite Phase, I guess keeping steady is the order of the day.
But I want to leave. I want to get out. Frankly, I’m tired of being tired of where I live, and how I am living, and having to invent everything from scratch if I want it to be there at all.
Part of the problem I’m experiencing is a culture around me that is profoundly alienating and discouraging. It is as though we have made a professional practice of being ice-cold with one another. I think the northeastern United States is one of the hardest places to live and become connected with a community or a workplace.