Cabin fever is normally something that happens in an environment that experiences winter and actual snow. It comes from a lack of venturing outside, of being trapped in a cabin until reasonable thaw.
There is another form of cabin fever of which I am plagued. It is one that does not abate with seasons, it is continuous and its conditions threaten never to improve.
This cabin fever is caused by living in suburbia.
On weeknights and most every weekend the longing arises to venture out, to roam the wilderness, to be free of the society that is around us. It is a longing to spend time digging into ones self in search of truths, peace, and personal growth. In suburbia this wilderness does not exist. The simple and quiet options are nonexistent. The natural roaming disappeared with the last bulldozer and carpenter.
I am left like a bird returning to a nest that has been destroyed, wandering in confusion and frustration, trying to find its home. It knows that it was here but some heartless breeze seems to have carried it away.
How does one who craves simplicity, quiet, and the natural world live in an environment with a thousand noises and blinking lights. Assaulted by car stereos blaring the dregs of the musical form, attacked by shallow societal and communal mores that bear no favor to the development of real morality and beneficence.
When money is an obstacle how can one find their way back to that solitude? How easy it would be to walk out a back door surrounded by woods and animals and bath in the redemptive power of the natural world. How easy it would be to maintain that balance of soul that comes from regular exposure to the medicine of the wild. If only it were that easy.
Suburbia is insulation, and was always intended to be, for those afraid or even unconcerned with what moves about out there. It is for those unfamiliar with the peace and happiness that lies in the stillness of the woods. Suburbia is civilization, and civilization has a decidedly uncivilized affect on the soul.
By what I might now call an unfortunate chain of events, I find myself trapped in suburbia, with cabin fever. I long for the woods. I long for a pilgrimage in a simple shelter, making only those things necessary for the function of the body, allowing the soul center stage under the lights of nature.
How does one reduce oneself to the bare essentials, to simplicity. Surely it is like curing an addiction, but where do you start when you live in the opium den? Among the throng of voices, including your own, that tell you to think about it later because your favorite show is on…your fix is waiting. Who among us can help walk us down the path to a better way, past the aches and the invitations, and tribulations? Why are there so few returning to show the way?
The call is pulling on my soul and I am surrounded by only unsatisfactory choices. Cabin fever.