Into the Wild

This past weekend, my wife and I took a wondrous journey back to a place time forgot. The land before the internet. Even before electricity. And running water.

We were quite comfortable, mind you, but we stayed in a treehouse without any of the so-called modern conveniences. A place where, at night, it was so dark you couldn’t see two feet in front of your face — that is, until your eyes adjusted and then suddenly the glowing nighttime world of the forest emerged, hauntingly lit by distant moonlight bouncing of fog.

Rain fell the entirety of our stay, which only worked to increase our feeling of separation from the modern world. It was, in a word, divine. I’m not saying I could easily live there permanently, but for this weekend, it was just the right level of unplugged.

Of course, you’re reading this on my website, from a post I typed on my computer. I write my books on my laptop. All these things require modern conveniences. Every day life is overrun with such things. So, while I didn’t add any pages to the fourth John Black book, I did get some incredibly important time to recharge my batteries.

On one wall of the treehouse, someone had scribbled a few phrases worth heeding:

Take your shoes off.

Go outside.

Feel the earth.

So do it. Don’t worry, the modern world will still be here when you get back.