The Curious Case of my Outdoor Ineptitude

When I was little, I sustained fanciful visions of living alone in the woods in my Hobbit hidey-hole. That was a pipe dream, and I very much thank my strange little four-year-old self for it. Well, I also had some ideas then that were not so fantastic-- for one example, part of that whole "living in the woods" thing included me being a captive princess, adventurer on an exotic undiscovered island, or a cat. Possibly a caticorn.

Anyways, what I'm trying to say is that I've always loved the idea of peaceful solitude in nature, of existing free from societal conventions and interpersonal toxicity. Once, on a "where do you see yourself in ten years" paper, I wrote, quite literally, "living alone in the woods with my pet green conure, named Rue, and a baby hedgehog." Now I have the conure, but she's named Tango. And much to my chagrin, no hedgehog. Additionally, I've realized that I'd die of agony in under a week if I didn't have access to strawberry milk or takeout Chinese food.

This, of course, was an extremely distressing realization. I'm plenty skilled in the art of cooking, as it pertains to preparing my boyfriend a different strain of pasta each week; but in terms of outdoor survival skills, I'm the kind of person who sets priority on decorating the stick tepee and tries to snuggle the fire because it's just so warm and cozy. Now, if you know me personally, you'd laugh at me being tormented by this because I've also studied herbal sciences rather extensively and would be reasonably adept in a survival situation, with that and my general study of outdoor skills.

But to me, it just isn't enough.

To be outdoors, out in the wide expanses of earth's embrace, the ground trembling with the heartbeat of all existence, and unconstrained air in your lungs; you cannot feel more alive than when you are one with the world. It isn't, for me, a matter of survival-- it is of mutual growth. Fighting against nature grants us the possibility to survive, but immersing ourselves within it inspires us to truly thrive.

If I sound vaguely like a Druid by now, I can honestly say that I have practiced as one. This philosophy of oneness within the self and the world is intrinsic to my view of life. Withdrawing from the universe pulls me into grueling bouts of depression and a lack of connection to my inner self utterly destroys me. That being said, and knowing that some existence of solitude at the least is of the utmost importance to me, I do find incredible value in reflections with others. My general thought is this: The purpose of the soul is for true, authentic connection, and verbal expression is but a sometimes necessary means. Nevertheless, I'm possessed with this "living alone in the woods" vision. Maybe I won't be alone alone, but I definitely get a little snappy when someone else invades the quiet serenity of my morning walk.

My point is, if I want to exist in this natural world, I have to know how to. My one big problem is that while I can basically forage for any edible plant and discern or apply its medicinal properties, I am downright AWFUL with plants. Honestly, I write up hundreds of garden plans but I can't keep one little sprout alive for more than a few days. The root of this problem (*humorous snort*) is that I treat plants like sentient beings (Trees of Cheem) and have a propensity to over-water so they "won't be hungry". I've combated the soil quality issue with my little worm farm, but I still have that nasty residual proclivity to smother every living thing within a mile radius with affection and warm cookies. With plants, this kind of doesn't work. Whatsoever.

So, there are a few things I want to do to acquire skills in this particular area of passion: grow a mini garden, renew my first-aid license, make homemade cheese, spend the night sleeping under the stars without a tent, go solo hiking, and create a collection of herbal remedies to store for later need. My little explored mission in life, the desire of my heart, is to immerse myself completely into the beauty and peaceful entropy of nature. I hadn't realized until lately how strong a facet of my personality this is-- until I noticed that my idea of an amazing life is and always has been existing in perpetual awe of the world around me (or, of course, being a caticorn).

From my fixation on naturopathy to my possible non-violent pyromania to the bizarre impulse to get truly lost in the forest- if only for a few hours-- it is evident that my greatest happiness comes from harmony with nature. In both solitude and close connection I find my joy. It's the paradox of human nature, the craving to be at once so close and distant from those around us. Perhaps in the delicate balance of this, our hearts are most aligned to all the world around us and to ourselves. It is in this equipoise that our souls are set free, unburdened, and we are most truly alive.