I think I know why Thoreau only spent two years at his cabin; after two years, things seem routine. There is no adventure to it. The first winter I spent here was exciting because I didn’t know what being snowed in and living without running water would be like. I would wake up in my cold cabin and feel kind of burly as I made the fire. I would jump around to get warm while I waited for the fire to warm the cabin up. I still wake up when my cabin hits 36 degrees but it just doesn’t feel that cold anymore.
Last winter I got the phone line and discovered blogging.
This winter doesn’t offer anything new. This winter seems a little boring and tame. There are things to work on, like: my diet, exercise, writing, meditation, etc. The same stuff I’m always working on.
As I was driving home this year, I thought, if my cabin were robbed, I would go somewhere. When there was a big windstorm, I thought, “If a tree falls on my cabin, I’ll just get a ticket to somewhere and go.� I’m always threatening that if I run out of wood I’ll get a ticket to somewhere, grab my pack, and take off. I’m sensing a lack of commitment to this winter.
Once the snow gets here, maybe I’ll feel more committed and settled.
