Previously in a Rewild Story Part one. I shared with you all the initial sparks of curiosity and wonder that ignited our family's dream. Finding a new career, suitable land, taking a massive pay cut, pushing through doubters and naysayers, and navigating mini panic attacks was the easy part. Now, I’m smack in the middle of the adversity I convinced myself would be worth the effort. I suppose this is where the rubber meets the road, well, in this case, the dirt.

Being Honest With Myself

I was packed up for a few weeks. I made lists and repeated “just the essentials” when family and friends asked what I would bring.

I was more than prepared and firmly excited. Around 4:45 a.m., our four-month-old son decided to share his desire for milk with us. So I started loading up my truck and seemed in quite a hurry. Something was wrong, though. I didn’t account for how hard it would be to say goodbye to my amazing wife, beautiful son, and loving animals. It doesn’t matter what version of life I live; I won’t do it without them.

I sincerely hope anyone reading this may feel the same desire to provide for and protect a family of their own. In those final moments, I needed to dig deep and remove ego, vanity, and novelty motivations. Moments like that require the most authentic intention; I needed to be sure I made the right decision. When you romanticize something for so long, it’s easy to overlook the apparent negative side. Be honest with yourself; don’t sugarcoat your dreams. 

One Step at A Time

To say I did a lot of reflecting on the thirty-hour drive across the country is an understatement. I ran plans and contingencies through my head and “what if’d’” everything to death. This was another mental roadblock I needed to overcome. Similarly, looking back, I may have stretched myself thin by not resting as needed. I took a nap for forty-five minutes on Saturday and slept for two hours early Sunday morning before arriving in TN Sunday evening. I wouldn’t do my family any good if I was dead in a ditch.

Speeding towards my goal seemed important, but having the knowledge and flexibility to adapt while remaining steadfast is significantly more fruitful. Fueling yourself with cold brews and adrenaline has its place, but driving across the county to live in a shipping container and build a home for your family isn’t one of them. I have to remind myself of this every few days. Much like willpower, you have a finite amount of passivity. Know when to push the gas and accept when you need the brakes.

My Ego 

The ability to embark on a journey like this alone doesn’t mean you have to. A few essential pieces of this puzzle were a sense of adventure, intentional adversity, solitude, and perseverance. If I can hold onto any of the beliefs and convictions I’ve felt over the years, I will always maintain the idea that the sense of satisfaction at the other end of adversity is priceless. However, when someone or something comes along that may give you a leg up, knowing when to embrace it is a sign of maturity and reinforces gratitude.

I had mixed feelings about my mom, dad, and uncle meeting me in TN for my first week. This was my journey, and I wanted to do most of it alone. But it’s not my journey; it’s our journey. My brother, his wife, and my parents are following suit. We all have to build homes here and make remarkable adjustments to our lives to make this happen. As I write this, bacon is sizzling behind me on the stove my dad graciously wired up. The surrounding area is free of debris and trash left behind by the previous owners, and all of the old barn wood is saved or burned because of my mom and uncle. Their help allowed me to handle legal requirements like licensing, registrations, permit applications, and related objectives. For their dedication, I am grateful. Too much pride can be detrimental and cloud your resolve.   

Community and Friendships

An essential piece of this story is the people (and animals) I now have in my life. Their genuine support and authentic concern for my well-being are incredible. One of our neighbors has a tractor and saved my uncle and I’s back, moving massive beams and stones. Not to mention he and his wife are vastly familiar with the land and area. They do their best to make sure our transition is smooth.

Our other neighbors underwent almost an identical process over a year ago. They took me into their home, and we shared a delicious meal and much-needed conversation.

Establishing new relationships has made this process significantly more pleasant. I am forever humbled and grateful to you, my neighbors (you know who you are).

Perhaps most impactful to my psyche are some of the most incredible dogs I have ever met! I have four dogs who all belong to the neighbors but constantly join me on adventures and help keep the bears and coyotes away!

Achievement and Organization 

After everyone left, I was on a mission to achieve organization and establish a routine, both of which would be my friend while living here. Keeping things simplistic and neat gives me a clear view of which priorities need attention.

One of my first projects was our shed's leaking, sagging roof. I had fresh mountain air and a cool breeze accompanied by classic rock and a tool belt; I felt I could conquer anything (some of you may know the feeling.) After demolition and sifting through remnants of previous owners, this project marked the start of creativity.

I picked up a few new boards but utilized much of the old barn wood to strengthen the roof. By the end of the day, with my new furry and loyal friends at my side, the sense of accomplishment I mentioned earlier sprouted some growth. I started to create and improve, which was empowering and wonderfully satisfying. Something fun for me was using a chop saw my dad bought before I was born. It felt great working with my hands again. 

Detoxing From Suburbia

I was going non-stop for 12 days straight, the last several of which were pretty labor-intensive. I also chose to hike up the mountain behind our property before continuing some bushwhacking and property revitalization. When I enter my tent every night, I will venture to say it takes me about 30 seconds to fall asleep.

Social media folks often make living like this more glamorous than it really is. It’s pouring rain as I write this, and if you’ve never been inside a metal box when it’s raining, I’ll spare you the guesswork; it’s deafening. I have my hearing protection on! I had to do my laundry in a plastic bin, wash my dishes in my outdoor shower and quickly seal up my tent so my things didn’t get soaked from the short rain. I also have to walk outside for the garbage and the bathroom (pooping in a bucket, FYI.)

Everything I do takes 1-3 extra steps and is sometimes stressful. Thankfully I have the perspective to recognize that millions of people on this planet could only dream of having running water, safe shelter, electricity, and the ability to accomplish anything necessary. Shaking off the comforts of suburbia isn’t as easy as I thought, but I’m determined.   

Moving Forward

The site for our garage/apartment is ready. We have the plans and should be receiving some permits shortly. We have to lock in a date to dig and pour the foundation. After that, we will establish a week or two when my brother and dad will come out so we can start building!

Until then, I’ll settle in with my new position in forestry, retake the property consumed by years of wonderful mother nature and continue to develop methods and strategies for coping with a bit of loneliness and moderate homesickness.

I feel truly fortunate to be able to share this with everyone. We are not the only people doing this, and we are definitely not the only people who dream of starting new. Until next time, have fun and Rewild in any way you can.