I Went to the Wilderness to Avoid Making Decisions
LatestOver the past year and a half, I spent nine months living under a tarp in the wilderness. Each morning, I stuffed my belongings into my backpack—cheese, cookies, sleeping bag, headlamp, raincoat—then walked until dark. I crossed California, Oregon, Washington, New Mexico, Colorado, Wyoming, Idaho, and Montana. It was about 5,000 miles total at 25 miles a day. I traversed steep, icy slopes using crampons, got lost in grassy swamps, buried my poop while mosquitoes swarmed, and survived many other uncomfortable situations that would impress or horrify you.
Why did I do it? To avoid making a decision.
I didn’t know what career to pursue, where to live, and most of all, I was feeling uninspired with my options. Like many graduates in the arts, in the years after college I struggled to find stable, enjoyable work in a creative field. I interned (twice), freelanced, worked at a precarious start-up, then experimented with a series of erratic service jobs while making art on the side. I lived in urban (Minneapolis and New York) and rural areas (Upstate NY and Maine), but nothing stuck. And although graduate school was appealing, I was deterred by possible debt. In a search for clarity, I bought a backpack and a plane ticket, and I headed West.
It may seem counterproductive or pointless to withdraw to the wilderness to solve real life problems, but I am not the first. Unless you’ve been living in the woods, you’ve probably heard of Wild, Cheryl Strayed’s bestselling book about backpacking to overcome heroin addiction. Before Strayed, of course, Buddhists retreated into deserts and caves to achieve enlightenment. Artists and writers have always found inspiration from forays into forests and canyons. Troubled teens go to the wilderness to recover something of their former selves.