006 How I Built an Off-Grid Cabin (part 2)

Hi Everyone!

Today I continue the story I began last week - how I went from a scary rock bottom to finding health, housing, and love in a single year.

And, while my personal healing journey began long before October 2017 and has continued long past October 2018, those 12 months were a pivotal turning point.

I planned to finish the story this week but I’ve realized there’s more to tell than a single email can reasonably hold. For that reason, this email is now part two of three. The result, I think, is a more enjoyable and ultimately useful bit of reading for you.

If you missed Part 1 from last week, you can find it here. You can also find a full list of past emails here. And finally, if you know someone who would enjoy these emails, you can send them here to subscribe.

Touch and Go

By the time 2018 arrived, it seemed that I’d resolved my most pressing concerns: safe housing and safe employment. 

I was settled into a drafty, beautiful log cabin that I paid for through barter. It was a walk-in so, once I parked my car, I would load my things onto a sled and snowshoe the final 20 minutes home. It was just what I needed: Quiet, serene, and solitary.

But my new job, which at first seemed like a perfect fit, wasn’t going well. I’d underestimated the shock of switching from an outdoor existence to a room of yelling middle-schoolers. 

It wasn’t shocking for my mind – I understood what I was getting into – but my sensitive nervous system was completely rattled.

So rattled, in fact, that my physical and emotional symptoms came rushing back. And right behind them came the traumatic memories: all the times I’d quit a job or been let go because my body couldn’t handle the work. 

It felt like the start of a familiar pattern: panic, pain, tightness, re-injury, unemployment, and – ultimately – financial collapse.

But, for the first time, I actually believed things could turn out differently. I felt that my life could be different now.

That’s because my life was different. I had a wonderful therapist, a deepening embodiment practice, the accumulated wisdom of my long healing journey, and the knowledge that this job was truly safe for my body.

And so I doubled down on taking care of myself. I leaned on my embodiment practices to keep my levels of tension and anxiety low. I let my body rest whenever I wasn’t at my job, and I stopped all work on my property.

Basically, I did the opposite of my old self: Instead of relying on doing, I invested in being. Instead of relying on action and quick thinking, I invested in self-compassion, self-acceptance, and patience.

Slowly but surely, my nervous system adjusted to my new job. And as the tension in my body released, the pain, stiffness and swelling went away. As my body settled, my panic disappeared.

Then, when my employment finally felt stable, I turned my attention to the cabin project.
 

Healing

By this point, my body was weak – it had been 4 years since my last injury-free period – and I needed significant physical and emotional healing.  

So, over the course of winter and early spring, I slowly re-introduced the heavy work required to prepare for my cabin building. 

In the past, I would have rushed this process. I would have felt ashamed by my condition and, in order to feel worthy, I would have pushed my body. This time I was patient.

That’s because I finally understood, on a feeling level, that patience was an act of giving to myself, a reflection of my innate worthiness. I didn’t need to rush or push myself anymore. I didn’t need to prove anything.

I had also discovered a quiet voice inside, a voice that said “Stop working” anytime I was approaching strain or injury. This was huge because the line between health and injury was razor thin. And in the past, especially when I was stressed, it was hard to tell when I was approaching or crossing that line. 

To tell you the truth, I didn’t understand how this voice knew when to stop, I only knew I could trust it implicitly.

But it was still hard sometimes. It clashed with my deepest, oldest habits of doing, pushing, and achieving. 

Nevertheless, as soon as the voice said “Stop”, I would pack up my tools. When it said “rest today”, I’d cancel my plans and rest. 

That’s because, no matter how hard it was to take it slow, it was better than being hurt, broke, and terrified. 

This intuitive voice – and learning to hear it – is what I mean by building with the Feminine. I healed with self-care, self-acceptance, and patience.

I prepared for and eventually built my cabin with an emphasis on being rather than doing. My process was guided by feeling, not will. 

With newfound patience and intuition, my body began to recover quickly – in fact, more quickly and steadily than it ever had in the past. The gentler I was with myself, the more I listened to my intuition, the healthier I became.

By the time April arrived, I was strong enough to start the cabin.
 
That's it for now. Next week I'll cover my experience building the cabin as well as the shocking message I received just before moving in. See you then!

Energetically,
David