On the morning of Day Two, you realize there is no shower coming, and there
is no mirror to reflect how well you’ve tamed the wild of your face. There
is no internet to amuse you, and no savior to bring the important item you
forgot. This is when you begin to surrender. Letting your existence, along
with your appearance, go fallow.
This is when I begin to feel the sorrow that comes from living in human
civilization, in constant battle with nature, even though I’ve mostly,
politely, outsourced that battle to food manufacturers and petroleum
companies. I begin to see – and grieve – the outrageous complexity of my
life; the expense and fossil fuels and other people’s labor required for me
to live the way I do.