Some thoughts about a month in nature

Ever since I’ve left Deurne, when I was 18 years old, I've lived in cities. Some bigger than others. But a common thread has always been: countless people, lots of possibilities, and plenty of things going on. How would I appreciate living somewhere with none of those elements? I booked my AirBnB with that question in mind. After a month, here are some thoughts.

With nothing you have to see, and nobody you have to meet, you automatically have a lot of time on your hands. It feels like I’ve never had so much time available to do, what I want to do. With every new place I visit, it is less about the destination, and more about the journey. Who do I meet? What do I experience? What sparks my interest? And what do I learn in the process? 

Externally, we may be able to hide behind a career, a house or a family. But internally, we only have ourselves. “Everywhere you go, there you are.” The lack of connection to one specific location and the absence of attachment to material possessions, make the truth behind that saying evident to me. There is nothing I can hide behind. The only person that can make my life interesting and enjoyable, is me. Or as Rolf Potts wrote in his book Vagabonding: 

Travel compels you to discover your spiritual side by simple elimination: without all the rituals, routines and possessions that give your live meaning at home, you are forced to look for meaning in yourself.

Especially in the middle of nowhere. I’ve experienced new things this month, that I would not likely experience in the city: I've learned how to build fires, how to take care of chickens, how to catch mice and I’ve slept many nights under the stars.

It’s easier to have a healthy lifestyle in this type of environment. With so much time on your hands, it’s hard to come up with an excuse to not allocate 10-15 minutes every day for a workout. There are few dining opportunities here and forget about finding a fun bar in the neighbourhood. 99% of my time I ate home-cooked meals and, except for one night clubbing in Stockholm, I haven't had a sip of alchohol since I came here. I’ve also been able to get rid of my coffee addiction, by having more days without coffee than with coffee.

When you are surrounded by nothing but gorgeous nature, and the only responsibility you have is making sure the cats and chickens are fed, it is easy to feel carefree. I feel so at ease here, so calm. 

I’ve had many days that I spent alone, without seeing another human being. There were moments, where I wished that I could share something beautiful with others. Yet I haven’t felt one moment of loneliness. That surprised me a little bit. Especially recalling some moments in Florence or Rome, where I did feel lonely at times. 

The lack of people around you can be nice from certain perspectives, but I’ve missed social interactions. There is a lot of "I" in this story and not a lot of “we”. I like to be kind and to share my two most precious resources: time and attention. Some days I drove to town, just so I could give people a friendly smile, or have some kind of interaction. Living in such a remote area, doesn’t give you much opportunity for spreading kindness. 

So, would I want to live in nature long term? No, I don’t. If I visualise my most important values as buckets of water, I can say this: although this type of environment fills my buckets of health and personal growth, it leaves my buckets of human connection and contribution to the greater good, rather empty. And in the long term you are as happy, as your least filled bucket. 

Nevertheless, I’m grateful for this wonderful experience. I’ll remember this month as the period where I started life’s most important journey: from my mind to my heart.