Tag: isolation

Coming on Winter

I once spent a few winter months living in a cabin in the woods.

It was around this time of year that I moved in. It was late fall, nearly winter. Cold. Quiet.

The cabin was located near the edge of a large lake. There was a small house up the lane. But no trees or bushes to impede my view from the front door to the pebbly beach and beyond.

Looking from the beach across the wide, expansive lake – already half frozen though it was only November – there were cottages. Most were closed for the winter. Sensibly.

I still recall that winter as one of the calmest I’ve ever had.

The beauty of the place was not only the quiet and isolation. It had a lot to do with the quality and color of the light. The light was filtered through a gauzy land fog in the early morning.

In the late afternoon, driving down the lakeshore road showcased a light palette of golden hues in the sky. The long shadow of shoreline trees laid across the surface of the frozen lake.

Fortunately, there were just enough landlocked residents in the area to justify plowing local roads. If not, I would have been looking to rent a snowmobile for my shopping expeditions.

What I remember most fondly was the peace and quiet of that little cabin. It wasn’t what you would call luxurious. A better description would be utilitarian. Galley kitchen. Three small bedrooms. A bathroom and living room. And cold.

I started using the bedrooms as extra storage space. It was just about the right temperature for keeping produce fresh. I eschewed all three for sleeping and parked myself on the futon close to the heater. I would rather have died from carbon monoxide poisoning than hypothermia.

On one memorable occasion I took a bath in the blue cast iron bathtub. To make it tolerably warm, I heated two enormous spaghetti pots of water on the stove.

I threw the boiling water into the tub one after the other and heated up another two batches. The boiling water kept the tub warm just long enough to get an acceptable two inches of hot water out of the faucet. As you might imagine, the bath was soon abandoned for quick showers.

In the mornings, long, lazy days stretched out in front of me. The sun rose lazily across the lake and I followed suit. A hot cup of tea. A book to read. High density memory foam slippers to ward off frostbite. Wrapped in one of those ubiquitous afghan square throws. My lie-ins were part laziness and part self-preservation until the propane heater kicked in.

I felt safe enough to get up and move around the cabin once my breath stopped steaming in the crisp, morning air. What we may have experienced as something of a trial when it was happening can soften in recounting the experience. It is the lessons we take away from any challenging situation that we hold on to, if we’re lucky.

It is coming on winter. By contrast to times past, it is sunny and warm most days and so it will remain in the coming months. That has its own charm. I am no longer living alone but sharing my space and life with a special someone.

When I wake up these days, I am grateful for all that is available to me. What I can remember fondly about that winter of isolation was the solitude and beauty of the physical environment I was nestled in. I can hardly remember any details about the numbing cold and all the other cold weather living challenges.

After all, I survived them and landed here. It’s pleasant to have memories of that long, cold, beautiful winter to look back on. Even better is that it reminds me to create new and beautiful ones where I am now. These days will be what I will look back on years from now.

It reminds me to make today the best it can be so I can enjoy the memories I am able to recall in the future. That must be growth.

I don’t recall consciously thinking to much when I was younger that today I would be making my memories of yesterday to revisit.

I am much better about doing that now.

Take My Own Advice, Maybe?

Self-isolation is a gift. When the world has been nipping away at you for longer than you can stand to meet its own particular needs, we all have the right to call “time out.” The trick is learning we have that right.

I am working on recognizing my own complicity in allowing the nipping to happen. If I’m not available, no nipping can happen I theorize. But there are times and tasks that must be faced and worked through to avoid unpleasant consequences. There are people and tasks we must face to accomplish certain ends.

Too often we put ourselves out there and on the line emotionally for no good reason whatsoever. Okay. I often put myself on the line emotionally for no good reason whatsoever.

The trick is to catch yourself in your own wrongheaded thinking. I have come up against some challenges of late that have me questioning what is going on in the world today.

My primary physician’s staff resolutely refuses to release my own medical records to me. That was so wrong and crazy I couldn’t believe what I was hearing.

People recently charged with my well-being literally walked away from their posts. They were not even mildly apologetic or disturbed by my distress. Rather they were defensive and accusatory because I took issue with their shabby behavior.

Someone I hired to do a task didn’t show up and hasn’t bothered to explain or apologize. That person “ghosted” me after making a commitment I relied on. I’d writhe in shame if I did that to someone. I honestly don’t know how to make sense or put any of that into a relatable context. The world seems to have gone mad.

I operate on what I guess are old-fashioned and out of date rules about keeping your word and doing your best and treating everyone you meet with respect and decency. The Golden Rule: Do unto others as you would have them do unto you.

That often makes me feel like a social Luddite. When I talk about the importance of honesty, I can hear some people chuckling under their breath. “Nice thought, but get real. No one is honest these days.”

And we wonder why the world feels so screwed up? I don’t follow the Golden Rule to make someone else feel better. I follow it to make myself feel better. Mostly to apply some consistency and predictability to my social interactions. Some days, though, it feels like that rule no longer works for me.

As a result, the circle within which I live is getting smaller. As I meet and interact with people who seem devoid of kindness or decency, I psychologically and physically recoil from them. And I certainly hope I don’t need them up the road.

It is not that person doesn’t have my full compassion. I simply recognize we are not operating on the same level with certain key values about how to build and sustain social relationships.

No use trying to push a string, I often say. It doesn’t do any good to expect an elevated level of behavior in people who simply aren’t mature enough to be there yet. That would be like expecting a three year old to drive.

It is often said water seeks its own level. That is, we tend to seek out and build lasting relationships with people who are more or less in tune and simpatico with who we are. Even if some people are not at the same social or economic level, it is relatively easy to sort out decent and authentic folks from charlatans. Mostly.

Of course, there is an inherent cost to longterm self-isolation. There is a danger of losing touch with what is going on in the society around you. Your relevance to the world may diminish. Your awareness of societal trends can wither. Humans need one another to grow and thrive. Isolating for too long can rob you of that connection.

But it is useful when your extremities are bloody from being incessantly nipped at and your body and soul need rest. Self-isolation can be a highly desirable doorway to duck into for a time. You can fill your days with things, like music and books and beautiful things and nourishing food.

So many of us, especially women, are fed the lie that our presence is indispensable to others and our self-worth often centered on making sure others around us are well taken care of.

I have come to believe that absenting myself for a time to take care of my own needs is an opportunity for others to learn to take better care of themselves. Win-win.

With that single, simple decision, think of the drama and burnout and suffering that could be avoided in our relationships. I sure do. All the time.