When I was about 19 or 20 years old, I had a whirlwind
relationship that became very difficult to get over. At the time, I was living
with my parents in Utah but they had an old cabin in Alaska that my dad was
remodeling for them to move into at some point. I needed to get out of town so
my parents agreed that I could go live in their cabin for a month.
The cabin was secluded on a little lake. There were people
that lived on the other side of the lake but they couldn’t really be seen. The
cabin was small, two stories, and in rough shape. There was electricity to the
downstairs but no heat other than a wood stove. There was no telephone hooked
up or cell phone service in the area. This cabin was totally secluded and I
would be in a position where the only human interaction I would have would be
if I chose to leave the cabin and seek it out. My brother and his family lived
only a couple miles away so I could be around people anytime I desired them.
My time there was very quiet and peaceful. I would get up,
chop wood, build a fire, eat, meditate, walk around the lake and woods, and
whatever else I felt like doing. There was no one demanding my time and no expectations
of me. I was living the hermit life and loving every minute of it.
One day I realized that it had been three days since I had
heard the sound of my own voice. I was startled by that realization and tried
to remember what my voice sounded like. I decided that I had better talk so I
didn’t forget how. From then on I sang and talked to myself off and on
throughout the day. One day I drove the ten miles into town to go to the
grocery store just so I could be around other people. Towards the end of my
time there I began spending more time at my brother’s house and found my
interactions with them felt so much more meaningful than before.
When the end of my month approached, I realized that I had a
decision to make. I was very happy there in that cabin living as a hermit. I
felt that I could continue to live like that for a very long time. So I
meditated, prayed, and questioned. Should I just stay there in that remote
cabin in Alaska or should I return to the real world and take on life again?
This was a very difficult question! As I pondered what I should do, the thought
came to me, “You can stay here and continue to live like this, but what good
would you be? How would you be contributing to the world?”
That thought hit me hard. I looked back on the last month
and realized that there was something missing from my experience. I felt rejuvenated,
refreshed, and healed, but I didn’t feel any fulfillment. I had no purpose. I
knew right then that I had to get back on the plane and go back to Utah.
Nothing about my time living as a hermit was bad or wrong.
In fact it was very healthy and good for me. It gave me time to heal. It gave me
a chance to be renewed. But the time came when I needed to leave that cabin and
go contribute to the world.
These last couple of months I have felt that, symbolically
speaking, I have been living in that cabin once again. I have withdrawn from
many people and circumstances. I have sought the hermit life. But the other
week the thought came into my mind, “You can continue to live like this, but
what good are you?” So I have decided to venture out of the cabin and engage in
the world once again. I have decided to live rather than survive. There are so
many incredible people in the world and so many amazing experiences waiting to
be had. All it takes is to step out of the symbolic cabin of my mind and
choose to live.
