Bad Neighbors, Part 2

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"I don’t know who you are or what you’re up to, but I don’t like it!" the man had said as we met at the fence line, I on my side and he on his.

 

This was a new experience for me. Throughout my life I’d lived a "normal" lifestyle and had always fit into the society around me. But now, this guy’s attitude had made me feel that I had done something terribly wrong. He looked at me like I was crazy, or somehow a threat to his family. He was angry and agitated, but I didn’t get the sense that he intended physical harm. He just didn’t understand what I was doing there, living in a tent so close to his home and family.

 

I’m not a fighter, and it takes a lot to get me angry, so my immediate reaction was to stay calm and try to talk to this guy. "Hold on a minute." I said, trying my best to stay calm while speaking in a firm and confident voice. After all, the way that he had greeted me was very rude, and although I understood why he might be upset, it didn’t excuse his behaviour. "Let’s back up a bit", I said as I offered him my right hand. "My name is Dave".

 

He reached out and shook my hand with a deep frown still on his face. The handshake was almost instinctive on his part, which showed he was usually a polite man and that this encountered was probably as uncomfortable for him as it had been so far for me. "Alan", he said

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Hot Summer Nights

As the hot Summer sun moved slowly across the evening sky, the long shadows of the pines stretched across the floor of the woods. Soon enough, the trees’ shadows would be absorbed into the darkness, joining with the evening, completing the transition from day to evening to night.

 

I lay on my hammock watching the close of the day, dressed only in shorts, my skin still sticky from the sweat of the day. I spread out on my back, looking up into the tall tree tops and watched the day pass into evening. The trees were especially beautiful in these early evening hours as they caught the parting rays of sunlight. Their leaves and branches and needles, being bathed in horizontal light from the west, glowed orange and reddish. The air felt still and humid, but high in the trees the leaves and branches rustled very gently, a sign of a cooler evening ahead.

 

The evening insects found me again as I lay there gently rocking from side to side. Their annoying buzzes interrupted the pleasant white noise of wind and leaves and evening birds and crickets. But soon most of them went on their way, and the few that remained were easier to ignore, so I fell asleep for an evening nap.

 

When I awoke it was nearly dark. I gathered my things and went back to the tent. Still tired, I went straight to bed, only to begin sweating again in the stale, still air inside. There would be no sleep until I cooled down, so I filled my water pot and went outside for a bath. I slowly poured the cool water over my body and let it trickle down my skin. A breezy evening would have been perfect, but there would be little wind evening. I continued to pour water on myself until the pot was empty. I was a bit more comfortable now so I went back to bed. I lay back on the damp bedding, my body still damp as well, and was soon able to fall asleep.

 

I slept well for some hours until I was awakened by a Summer storm that had built up some distance to the northeast. Heat lightning was lighting up my tent. And the accompanying thunder, grumbling slowly along as it passed through my woods, spoke softly of a powerful storm several miles away.

 

I was wide awake now, so I went outside to enjoy the cooler air that the storm had brought to the area. I sat naked on the pine needles outside, found a fairly comfortable spot that offered some softness, and looked high into the trees to the southwest. It was a dark night with little moonlight so the woods appeared black. Then, the distant lightning would strike again and for a brief moment cast the trees in a flash of light, only to drop them back into darkness again an instant later. Between the flashes, the woods returned to their normal night time state, with only fireflies and a few stars making their way through the darkness. I sat there awhile longer, smiling at the activity of the night. Before long my sleepiness returned and I went back inside to bed.

 

I awoke the next morning and immediately thought about the evening and night before, and how wonderful these hot Summer nights are in the woods of my home.

Bad Neighbors

I met my neighbor for the first time last Fall. I call him my neighbor because, to me, that's what he is. He lives with his wife in a house on the adjoining property. But to him, I am not a neighbor. I am simply a problem.

We met early one morning late last year. I was strolling behind my tent as he drove down his driveway, which is 30 yards or so behind my tent. The area is wooded, but there are breaks through the trees where you can glance through and see the back of my tent from his driveway. I happened to be standing in one of those breaks when he drove by so I waved to him. He saw me wave and we made eye contact, but then he quickly turn forward and kept driving, trying to ignore me. I shrugged and started to turn away, but just then he stopped his car and, after a short pause, put the car in reverse and backed up to where I was standing.

He got out of his car and started walking to the property line, so I began walking to meet him. We met at the fence line, I on my side, he on his, and he yelled, "I don't know who you are or what you're up to, but I don't like it!" Okay, I get that. He must be thinking the worst, I thought. Maybe once he gets to know me, he'll calm down.

 

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Late Spring

May is nearly over and I'm beginning to miss it already. March through May are perhaps my favorite months. I leave my door open this time of year and receive plenty of visitors, like lizards and mice and birds and all sorts of insects.

There seem to be more lizards this year than last, and the mice are happy to pop in and say hi, too. My relationship with mice has evolved a lot over the past couple of years. At first, I considered them menacing little creatures and trapped them without guilt. Then, earlier this Spring, I started to see them as cute little annoying neighbors that chewed up everything in sight. I no longer trap them. I just store my food in glass and plastic containers, keep my blankets in sealed plastic bags, and have resigned myself to wearing T-shirts with cute little hole chewed in them.

I saw my first firefly in flight last night, a sign of Summer. And I've enjoyed a number of thunderstorms. Their winds rocking the tree tops as well as my tent. The dark clouds causing me to light my lamps in the late afternoon. The heavy rain drops bouncing off my stoop and into my doorway, the door remaining open to let the cool wind evacuate the stale air from my tent. Temperatures quickly dropping from 80 to 65 as the lightning begins striking about, leaving me feeling mostly excited, but a little frightened, too.

The nights are still cool enough to require a blanket, but the heavy Winter bedding has been packed away since March. I still heat my bath water a little in the morning, but not nearly so hot. And my fuel costs are at their lowest this time of year since I don't have to heat the tent anymore. That won't start again until September.

My mornings are peaceful in spite of the birds in their frenzy at sunrise. There's plenty of early morning sun streaming through the cool air that still lingers from the night before, and a morning walk through the woods with coffee, and some guitar music to accompany the morning sounds.

These are wonderful days to live in a tent.

Time for Some Home Improvements

I've been living in a 12' x 14' canvas wall tent for 2 1/2 years now, and I love it. I live alone, which has some practical advantages. For example, I've been able to fully explore extreme simplicity with no constraints. I'd use my own personal values as my only guide, with no need to compromise or accommodate anyone else's needs. I'd come upon a problem, pick a solution that made me happy, and that was that.

As a result, I've simplified my lifestyle to my full satisfaction. I've eliminated most modern day comforts from my home like electricity, running water, indoor plumbing, refrigeration, and central heat and air, and I don't miss any of them. I light with oil lamps, carry in water, use a bucket for my toilet, heat with wood, and forgo air conditioning altogether. But throughout this entire experiment, I've only been concerned with myself. And now that I've found my own personal balance, and have experienced the incredible contentment that comes from living this way, I naturally want to spread the good news and share my lifestyle with others. And so I have. I've shared the details of tent living with many people from many different walks of life, and each time I have, I've gotten nearly the same reactions. On the one hand, nearly everyone appreciates my simple, stress-free way of living and wishes that they, too, could simplify their lives. But time and again, they stop short of changing anything in their own lives. And time and again, I hear the same concerns.

Here's a countdown of the top 10 reasons why most people would never explore my style of living:

10. It's just too crazy. Tent living is just too far out there for most people.

9. No electric lighting. Most people want to just flip a light switch and don't like the idea of dealing with candles and oil lamps full-time.

8. No air conditioning. Unlike Winter extremes, which can be controlled with a wood stove, the extreme heat of Summer is quite uncomfortable.

7. No central heat. Although I have a wood stove and am very comfortable in Winter, most people don't want the bother, mess and inconvenience of heating with wood.

6. No electronic entertainment. No TV, no Internet, and no stereo system. Most people believe they would be bored.

5. No refrigeration. That means no convenient leftovers waiting in the frig, and no cold beer in Summer.

6. It's no way to raise children. Many young families with children find my lifestyle completely impractical.

3. Not enough space. My entire home is around 170 square-feet, while in the US, the average per capita residential square footage is over 800.

2. No running water. Especially no running hot water, which means no bubble baths and no hot showers.

1. No flush toilet. This, by far, is the biggest concerns. My tent toilet consists of a bucket of sawdust, and almost nobody is okay with that.

It's also hard to entertain more than a few close friends at my place, especially in Winter when my living space is shutdown. And I can't really accommodate overnight guests.

So I'd like to extend my home to include the following:

• Better toilet facilities. I'm still trying to avoid a flush toilet, but I want to greatly improve my current setup.
• Guest bedroom. I really miss being able to invite guests over for a comfortable overnight stay.
• Room to entertain. I'd like to have eight or ten people over for dinner and drinks, even during the Winter.

My current thinking is to setup another tent to be used as a guest tent, build an outdoor bathroom, and improve my outdoor living space.

How Far Shall We Wander?

All of our efforts are voluntary, though it is sometimes hard to see. We are free to do as we please. Our free will and our innate sense and desire to help others are gifts from God to each of us. At our hearts we are giving creatures. But we are also selfish and greedy, and when those attributes are harnessed, they become work horses of incredible strength, able to pull entire economies and complex political and social systems. To deliver countless goods and services to market. And if we fail to control these beasts, they will quickly pull us into debt and servitude, and leave us feeling vulnerable and fearful as we sit in our well-appointed homes and gaze upon the beauty of Nature through our curtained windows, worrying about how tomorrow will be at work.

If we are free to choose our own enterprise, then how shall we know a good choice from a poor one? Our lives are short and our days are precious. Should we not take care to spend them wisely? To honor our gift of human life with good stewardship?

A wise man once said that the secret to happiness is not doing but rather being. And in Nature we see this truth most clearly with plants who are free to be only, their physical needs satisfied fully with no effort of their will. But we are animals of the highest form, so the truth of plants cannot take us so far. Instead, we see that all animals must work, and so must we. But the work we do now in this 21st century is rarely a holy thing. In our hearts, we are mostly unsettled about that fact. We often search for meaning and spiritual fulfillment and do not understand the emptiness that we feel even though our lives appear to be a great "success" in the eyes of others. Why does our lifestyle not satisfy our thirst? Without questioning whether we are on the right path, we often foolishly walk along it even faster. For is we are indeed heading toward fulfillment, does it not make sense to run instead of walk, thereby arriving at happiness that much quicker?

This, it seems, is the common state of the modern human. Feeling empty, we seek more. But the things that are offered to us on this path do not satisfy our spiritual thirst. The fruits of this labor do not nurish the human soul. Shall we gather even more, in the hopes of finding at least a morsel of satisfaction? Shall we continue to teach our children that this path is true and good and best?

In an ancient land, long ago, there lived many tribes of many people. Their needs, like ours, were real and pressing. Theirs was not a paradise, for there was sickness and hunger and death. And their work was not easy. Like us, they were creative and industrious and wanted a better life for their children. So when one of them found an easier way to carry water, or discovered a plant to heal the sick, or invented a way to gather more food, the whole society benefited and became more satisfied, their physical needs being met that much easier.

And so it went until they found themselves in a place of balance. For they still knew their place in Nature, that they were but one of many creatures. They shared the planet with the birds and the squirrels of the forest. They were humble and thankful for what God provided. And although they worked hard for their physical needs, as did the bird and the squirrel, their work was direct and necessary and meaningful. When they were thirsty, they carried water from the river. When some became old or sick, the others helped and gave to them freely. Their work followed the seasons and they knew the rhythm of Nature well. The time to plant, the time to harvest, the time to prepare for Winter. They did not yet envy the freedom of the bird, for they were still free in spirit themselves, and still understood all the ways of the bird, and did not yet wish to trade. It was easy to teach their children, for the lessons were simple and clear, and the benefits of their education were obvious and unquestionable.

The point of balance they had found was perhaps the closest thing to paradise that can be found for mankind. An equilibrium between the physical and the spiritual. A place where the fruits of their work fed both body and soul. They had arrived at their destination without even realizing it. 

And from that place of greatest perfection, they struck off again to explore the path even further, not yet realizing that the pursuit of even more comfort and material things would one day eat away at the very souls of their children's children.

And now, here we are, in this 21st century, so far down that path that our ancestor's trailhead can no longer be seen but can only be imagined. It survives only as folklore. But its echoes still ring in our hearts, if we care to listen. We all sense the truth of it, and we all feel the emptiness of wandering so far from paradise.

An Old Leaf Falls from My Tree

All things have their season. Like buds on a tree, new things arise in our lives from time to time. At first, we must nurture them, but as they grow and mature, they nurture us in turn, until one fine Autumn day, after having served us so well for so long, they inevitably fall away.

For more than two decades I worked for a society that was founded by international bankers and financial institutions. My full-time job was to help them succeed. I remember how excited I was to be hired by this society all those years ago, and how challenging and interesting the work was. How I nurtured my new, budding career, and believed in the great cause in which I was engaged. The projects I worked on helped international bankers across the planet, and they in turn did their part to create the global economy that we see today.

My last day on the job is December 31, 2014.

I've accepted an "early retirement" package. Inside the package, there is money. But the outer wrapping is the real interesting part. Yes, there are hints of "Thank you!", but the more prominent message is, "It is time for you to leave". The calculation has been made at corporate headquarters, and I am now a net liability. My work is no longer nurturing the corporation and must be shed.

And so it goes. The leaf of my career in financial telecommunications is sealed off from the corporate tree, and has already started to yellow. But there are new buds forming, too, and the life force in my own tree has never felt stronger. Dropping the old leaf of my corporate job is making room for new growth, and I'm excited about these new buds, and thankful that I am so blessed at this stage of my life.

As I ponder all the opportunities for change in my life that this moment brings, I realize there's nothing about my lifestyle that I want to change. In fact, I appreciate even more the benefits of tent living. That my living expenses are nearly zero, and that I have virtually no maintenance, and that I can easily relocate, and that I'm living a virtually stress-free life close to nature.

So as I fashion my dinghy and prepare to leave the mother ship, I'm happy that I don't have too much cargo in the hold. Instead, I can just gather a few things and paddle my canoe into the sunset.

Wait a minute, or is that a sunrise?