This is my first summer in the countryside, and the hottest one at that.
It’s funny how one habit I adopted while living in England
is constantly talking and complaining about weather.
It doesn’t matter what kind of weather it is - someone somewhere is always talking about it.
It could be a tad hotter, or cooler, it’s too sunny or raining too much.
The truth is - we are utterly unprepared
for any type of severe weather here in England, almost ridiculously so,
but it is what it is.
I went outside on the hottest day of the year,
and only the warm summer breeze and shady woodland became a sort of sanctuary
away from the rays of the scorching sun.
I share a lot about my experience living in the countryside,
about slow life habits I adopted after leaving the big busy city
and my enjoyment of time alone in nature.
There is something else, however, I don’t talk about as often.
It’s living off grid - or actually choosing NOT to.
You know, I’m the type of person who always feels she’s not good enough.
As if everything I do always needs to be perfect
always needs to reflect a certain image or a standard before it sees the light of day.
That’s the case with everything creative I make,
but also with something as simple as sharing my thoughts and way of life.
If I’m not going full on with something -
I don’t have the right to talk about it.
If I don’t live remotely on a mountain, I don’t have the right to talk about slow living.
But you don’t need to be a gardener to grow flowers,
or a musician to love music, or a professional baker to make a delicious cake.
You can simply share your joy or ideas with others -
and maybe there will be someone who will feel just the same.
There is one simple truth I realised quite recently -
you don’t need to move to the middle of nowhere to live a slow and conscious life.
Lately when living off grid is more talked bout and many people moved out to nature,
renting or buying houses in remote locations,
growing or foraging their own food,
not seeing any neighbours for miles and miles on end,
I felt like my experience of slow countryside living has become somewhat lacking.
I felt like I don’t really fit into that image
of a peaceful off grid life because well, I don’t actually live as remotely as some do.
I live in a village that may not be a perfect commuter place.
We don’t have any connections to London, but there are other smaller towns
and cities around with hourly bus connection.
There is a co op, a coffee shop, a healthcare centre and a pharmacy in my village,
and while there’s nothing exciting to do - in case of an emergency
there are all the conveniences available at a doorstep.
Having these conveniences doesn’t mean not living a conscious, slow and simple life.
It doesn’t take away from the experience in the countryside,
apart from me not being able to own pets or baby geese or start a farm in my backyard.
And then I trace back to my last year living in the city,
realising that even back then I already began adopting some slow living habits.
In reality, living remotely, growing your own food, building your own house (even if it’s tiny)
that’s a somewhat lucky position to be in,
which not everyone can afford for multiple reasons.
Of course “lucky” is a word that means something different to everyone,
but you probably get what I mean here.
Living away from urban conveniences implies having the means to do so -
owning a car, a remote job without the need to commute
to the city centre to make a living,
and sometimes having a support system that consists of other people -
family, friends, who can provide a helping hand in difficult situations.
Quite frankly, this isn’t a realistic living situation for everyone, and it wasn’t a very realistic,
not matter how desirable, living situation for me.
My family lives in a different country
and I don’t really have any close friends I could rely on within thousands of miles.
While I can work remotely being self employed, it’s an unpredictable and difficult journey.
There is an additional financial side to this:
with the rising popularity of countryside living, rent and
prices of houses in the villages have grown a lot.
Before, living outside of London rhymed with cheaper rent,
but right now we pay the same rent as in London but also with higher utility bills.
The market price has grown with the demand for it.
And I’m not gonna lie, it is a struggle.
I moved out of the city to be closer to nature,
to explore the country I call home, to heal my anxieties.
But I still wanted to have some conveniences around -
I simply didn’t have the luxury of living too much off grid.
And I realised, that living slowly and consciously doesn’t depend on location.
Being a highly sensitive person and an introvert
I can get overstimulated and burnt out pretty fast.
A change of location doesn’t provide instant healing.
Perhaps healing comes from someplace else, from the inside,
from intentions we set for ourselves and our lives, from what gives our lives a purpose.
From putting down your phone for an hour,
from bringing the attention to the present moment
instead of floating somewhere deep in your head.
Looking and actually seeing. From listening and actually hearing.
From finding a moment of stillness in the constant noise.
You can keep living in the busy environment,
without getting immersed into the chaos of it.
Find joy, a bright side in whatever you have.
You see, life is never the same constant,
it twists and turns, speeds up and slows down.
It’s chaos and quiet in one, it’s sunshine and stormy clouds in the same sky.
Perhaps it’s all about learning how to navigate through it in your own inner world,
in your own time, not dependant so much on the outer reality.