He asked me if I wanted some tea. I said yes and he walked out of his barn with an ax. Trees were still covered by snow, so he had to shake a few branches before starting hitting those with the ax. Back to the barn he cut the woods in smaller pieces and let them dry by the stove. I didn’t know making tea could have taken that long but, in taking part in all the long process, I’ve appreciated tea much more.
It was a cold day of February when I first met Daniel. He gave me some directions to reach his place but it wasn’t easy to find it, as all the people who live off-grid I guess. He walked towards me, we met in an empty field covered by snow. His barn, hidden in a small forest, was simply made but had everything to cover his needs.
I wondered how someone could survive in a barn like that, in the middle of English winter, without electric power or gas. I might have dreamt about a hot bath the whole time, but probably just because I was used to having comforts all along.
After meeting him I understood that real power is in our mind because we are capable of doing amazing things, if only we have enough freedom to experiment and try.
Daniel was still underage when he lived in the streets of London as homeless. Years after, he changed his life by leaving the city and moving to the nearest forest. Escaping from society was the only option for him to live fully, to enjoy every single moment, to listen to the silence of nature.
He moved to an open land where he built clay houses, there, for some years, he finally had his space and personal freedom.
His expenses were really low as he could get free water from a nearby stream and wood from the many dead trees in the area. Unfortunately someone spotted him and wanted him off the land so the police came and destroyed all the clay houses. When he got back on the land he built a new barn formed by a simple gazebo and, this time, he certainly had even less worries about losing it.
Coming from a busy environment as a city like London can be, it felt like time slowed down and I could actually have a grip on it. Actions were immediately followed by needs, for example: feeling cold requires putting more chopped wood in the stove, making sure there was enough and, last but not least, also make sure that the ax was ready to cut it.
I know, it’s hard work, but I can assure you that this way of doing things doesn’t add any stress: you do what you are capable of doing, without thinking too much about it.
For me it has also been a moment of realisation of how pointless were most of the things I was doing in London, when Daniel had reduced everything to a simpler life, maybe more meaningful.
