005 How I Built an Off-Grid Cabin (part 1)
Now that we've finished our intro to embodiment series, I'd like to share a bit about my own healing journey.
For the next two weeks I'll be chronicling a remarkable year of my life - one that began at a true rock bottom and ended in beauty, satisfaction, and love.
I've also included a video at the end that covers, in more detail, the common obstacles people encounter when beginning the embodiment journey.
Enjoy!
Rock Bottom
October 2017 was a bad month...
I had just lost another job because of a chronic injury
I was living alone in a camper on a cheap beat-up piece of land in rural Maine
I had plans to build my own cabin but, after two decades of chronic health problems, I had no money left in the bank and a body that felt completely broken
The land itself was a mess, a depressing moonscape that had been clear-cut by the previous owner
I knew very few people in the area and I had no job prospects
Winter was coming and I didn’t have electricity, running water, or heat. Nor did I have enough money to rent a place that did.
Now I’d been in a lot of tight spots in my life, but this was on another level. It was the kind of moment I now recognize as essential in the healing journey, the backed-into-a-corner moment.
Physical and mental health problems had been a constant since my adolescence. I spent much of my twenties and early thirties out of work for health reasons. I was also alone most of the time, unable to find or sustain a romantic relationship.
And everytime something would come up – some injury or failing relationship – my solution was to do more, to push, to work harder, to think my way out of a problem. And, when that was no longer an option, I’d shift my focus, becoming obsessed with the next thing I thought could solve my issues.
I was miserable, of course, but my determination had its benefits. I became a masterful guitar player, a talented bread baker, and a scrappy and creative homesteader and builder.
I was often admired and encouraged by others for my abilities. People would remark about how amazing it was that I could do so much, that I knew so much.
And strangely enough, I was admired for my ability to withstand and navigate being sick, injured and broke.
The qualities that our culture values so much – determination, single-mindedness, grit, ingenuity, self-reliance – are generally associated with successful people.
In my case I was extremely successful at failing. I was a master at failing and then figuring out what to do next, over and over and over.
That’s why I stuck with my old strategy for so long. Despite the fact that my life was always falling apart, I had achievements and the respect of others.
For a long time, I couldn’t imagine how all this “doing” was contributing to my problems. And, the more I began to understand, the more I became scared to give it up.
But, as I sat in my little camper in October of 2017, I understood I had backed myself into a corner. Despite my skills and cleverness, I was stuck.
It was in that moment of stuck-ness that I became less scared of change than I was of staying the same.
Waking Up
At this point, I’d been in therapy for a few years and I’d made important gains in health through embodiment practices. I understood that I often felt better when I didn’t push, when I respected the signals of my body or my intuition.
However, I was still hung up on work and money. For as long as I’d been old enough to work, a job meant risking my health.
I couldn’t type or play guitar without pain and risk of injury. With physical labor jobs, I didn’t have the flexibility to take it easy on days when I struggled with fatigue or pain. I didn’t see how I could find work I enjoyed, felt safe for my body, and paid enough to support even my modest homesteader lifestyle.
That’s the thing about being backed into a corner: it forces you to see things in a new way, to try something you’ve been too afraid, proud, or stubborn to try.
For years I’d been thinking about direct support work, providing in-person help to people in my community who needed it. I’d resisted because I didn’t have prior experience and it didn’t fit the image of a rugged homesteader – though at this point neither did I.
Over the course of my own healing journey, I’d cultivated the qualities needed for helping others: emotional maturity, wisdom, patience, and empathy.
First, I applied to work as a caretaker for the elderly, but the hours were terrible and it paid minimum wage. I also sought out jobs working with disabled people, but there weren’t any openings in my sparsely populated rural area.
Meanwhile the weather was getting cold. Nights were in the single digits and I was still in my unheated camper. But, in my gut, I knew I was headed in the right direction. My mind was calmer and, once I’d committed to finding work that wouldn’t risk my physical health, my body felt better.
Simply by removing the threat of injury, I experienced less pain, inflammation, and tension.
And finally, things began to go my way. In late November I found a remote cabin to rent. It was uninsulated – I woke up many times that winter with the water in my glass iced over – but it was cheap and it had a wood stove to thaw me out in the mornings.
Then, through a series of well-timed events, I found a part-time youth mentor position in a nearby town. At that point in my life, it was truly a perfect fit.
The job left my mornings free for working on my property. There was minimal computer time and no heavy labor required. The organization was looking for someone who could manage their large community garden and I had farmed for years.
And, because I’d spent 5 years teaching private guitar lessons in the past, I was considered a highly experienced candidate and was offered the commensurate rate of pay.
So, not only had I found an enjoyable job that was safe for my body and mind, I’d make more money per hour than any other time since leaving the city.
The Gift of a Shitty Situation
Though this story serves as a precursor for the construction of my cabin, it also stands nicely on its own. It’s an example of how being backed into a corner, of having my worst fears realized, actually created the conditions and opportunities I needed most.
Research shows that human beings are terrible at predicting what will make them happy, the best solutions for their problems, and how to achieve them. There are just too many variables to consider and too much stubbornness in the human mind.
Time and time again, being backed into a corner has served as a way to blow up my plans and my tightly held identities. Each time, I’ve been asked to let go of something I’ve thought was necessary or invite in something I thought was impossible.
Yet, the loss of control and the loosening of expectations has been exactly what I needed. I found solutions (or solutions found me) that were better than I could have imagined.
And what I was asked to give up, what I believed was entirely necessary for my well-being, turned out to be nothing but excess baggage – beliefs about myself, others, or the world at large that were not true and only served to keep me stuck and small.
Next week I’ll fulfill the promise of this email’s subject line. I’ll finish this story of building my cabin with an axe and the feminine.
I’ll share how I took the lessons and opportunities from the fall of 2017 and applied them to the cabin and the incredible transformations that have shaped my life since then.
Enjoy the video below and I'll see you next week.
Energetically,
David