Cabin Life #3: Chopping Wood, Take 2

I had started a series of "Cabin Life" blogs way back when I first moved to Yukon, but never quite got into writing them for one reason or another. So here is a second shot at it. I will document what life is like living in a log cabin in the Yukon wilderness, without running water, heated only by a wood stove, surrounded only by the sounds of animals, the wind and my own breathing...

I hope to document the trials and tribulations, the ups and the downs.  What I have learned and what the cabin has taught me. If there is something that my readers wish to learn about, or have questions about, let me know and I will try to incorporate that into a post! It's always nice to have new ideas that perhaps is something that I take for granted.

without further ado;

Chopping Wood- Take 2 

Chopping wood has become somewhat second nature to me as I live out my days in the woods. Though not second nature enough that I no longer have to think about it, but something that I now know will either be a weeks worth of work a couple of times throughout the winter or a daily task that brings me comfort, a way to de-stress and get back to my little world away from the world.

I am currently not gathering my own wood, as I am without chainsaw, or truck. But I do hold hope that next season I will be equipped to do so. Wood in the Yukon averages $225-$250 per cord. Last winter I worked my way through about 4.5 cords. This winter has been a bit more mild, but during cold snaps (week long stints of about -35 to -48) it seems that the stove eats the wood, quickly enveloping each log with its heat and turning it into ash.

When I first began chopping wood there was a certain amount of hesitation when swinging the axe. Unsure of my swing and my ability to keep all of my limbs while wielding such a sharp apparatus, I was cautious. I mean if it can slip through a tough piece of wood like butter, what's to say it won't do the same with my leg.  I used to stare wide eyed at the people who would simply pick up the axe and swing without much thought to their distance, speed, or follow through. They always seemed to hit their mark, or obliterate a huge piece of wood, with (what I thought) was great force in just a few swings, and turn it into the perfect size for stacking.

But what I have learned is that it's not about the force with which you strike the log. It's about finding the right spot, the spot that the log is almost begging to be split at, and hitting it with a swift movement.  No hesitation. Follow-through. Looking not only to split the log you are chopping but the one below it. Looking beyond the simple task and seeing your movement continuing with a forward motion towards the end.

When you find that 'sweet-spot' the wood splits like butter and before you know it you have accomplished in a short time what may have in the past taken you hours, or even days. Your arms become stronger, and the motion that once felt clunky, awkward and foreign becomes easy and routine.

Learning this lesson was a difficult one, but is something that has helped me to find the sweet-spot and follow-through to the holding log.

 It involves staying present, getting the mind under control, practicing love and compassion.

Clear your mind….Chop wood, Carry Water.

Much like in life... it takes time to learn how to follow-through, and trust that the holding log will be there. It's about finding that holding log, a steady base that will help you find the place where you can clear your mind, and let yourself go, without hesitation. That's when the things you  never thought you could do, happen and they happen much easier than you ever imagined they could.

If you try to force a log to break, it never will.

What We Win - looking at positivity/negativity and winning at life

I made a statement to a friend the other day: "I always win." It was meant to be nothing more than a quip, as I certainly have never seemingly 'won' anything in my life. However, over the next couple of days this retort took on a very new meaning.

Every day I was asked by this friend "so what did you win today." To which we recounted for each other all of the things that could seemingly be 'wins' for us that day...

"I didn't get stuck in the snow"
"I got to spend 6 hours with children making movies"
"I got to help people find awesome books that they will really enjoy"
"I was able to help out a friend in need, and do yoga with them"
"The sun shone down (giving me vitamin D), and the birds were singing to me as I shoveled my driveway for 3 hours this morning!"


It forced me to look at the daily tasks of my life in a new and different way. Instead of getting upset that I ran out of propane when I was in the middle of baking muffins, it became "I was able to go into town and get a free coffee from the a nice man at the gas station."

These little shifts in perspective have made a huge difference in my life, and can make in anyone's who cares to benefit.

I have always been a little bit skeptical of the "think positive and you will be happy" mentality. Having generally had a fairly positive disposition my entire life I often found that it seemed forced, or even fake to just put a smile on your face and turn the heart-wrenchingly difficult situation around.

Because lets face it... some things are simply just negative, painful and wrong. There is no smile that is going to cure it. It will only mask the real issue, and eventually cause more pain. Dealing with these realities and moving on to something more positive seems to be a far more enticing tactic... for me anyways.

 But this seemed like a nice compromise. Something to make your day seem brighter. It is a way to look at something, like shoveling snow for 3 hours, that may not be your favourite thing to do, in a way that makes you feel like you have accomplished something wonderful, and be thankful for that opportunity.

It is a way to look back on your day and be thankful for all the beautiful moments as well, not simply because you had to switch the negatives into the positives, but because you were able to see the small things that may have otherwise passed by, and can appreciate the people, things and world that is right in front of you, instead of focusing on the things or people that "did not" or "have not."

What a world.

What did you win today?

I get to live here..... ;)

Cabin Life: Marking a Year and a true SOURDOUGH

This past month marked a year that I have been in the Yukon. It seems like forever ago that I made that long emotionally perilous solo journey across the country to an unknown place to live; but somehow it seems like no time has passed at all.
It has been a year of rebuilding, breaking down and rebuilding again. There were so many unanswered questions, and so much feeling alone... But that is a post for another day, today we celebrate the year of becoming a SOURDOUGH! 
Being a Sourdough in the Yukon is defined as  "A permanent resident of the territory. Someone who has lived in the Yukon during all four seasons." (according to Wiki)
This year has been remarkable in so many ways. I have learned things about myself and other people, I have become stronger in myself than ever before, I feel more independent and sure of myself in my decisions, because I know that I am making them for myself, not for someone else... even if that decision is based around someone else.

I was recently asked to be a part of a documentary that a lovely woman, Siobhan, is doing. After a chance meeting at my workplace, she asked if she would be able to interview me about living in a cabin in the north. The documentary is taking place across north america, she is hitching from anchorage, AK to NYC in hopes of meeting different characters and experiencing different ways of living in order to explore the concept of freedom and what it means to them. When asked on my opinion of freedom and what it means I felt a little bit stumped for a moment... isn't freedom just living...
After sharing a few laughs and stories with Siobhan I realised that freedom was more than just living. It was the way that you choose to live your life, and the ability to choose is freedom in and of itself.
 To me living free is the ability to do things on my own, and finding out how strong and self sufficient i can be. Living in a cabin in the Yukon has been a wonderful experience for me, though challenging at times, I wouldn't take it back for anything. There are days when I long for running water, which would enable me to take nice, long, hot shower, or turn on the tap and wash my dishes with ease. But then I look at how appreciative I have become of those things. I am the only one i have to depend on. If i don't get water, then I have nothing to drink or cook with. If i don't chop enough wood, or make a fire for myself, I will most likely freeze to death, and I only have myself to blame.

Anyways, this year was fantastic and absolutely life-changing in so many ways (for the better) and I believe it was the right decision for me. I love living in the Yukon and can't wait to spend a lot more time exploring the freedom that it allows me to have.

Also, I am committing myself to writing at least two blog posts per week for the month of October. So expect to see a lot more posts about cabin living and if you want to see a post on something in particular that you wonder about, let me know!

in the mean time, enjoy some pictures of a few of my epic adventures.

The First Snow

Snow. I have a love hate relationship with it.

It has been a while since the first snow here in the Yukon. We are now old hats at wiping our cars clear of the 20 cm that fell the night before, and shoveling our way out of the house, defrosting our door-handles with hairdryers, getting up at 3 am to stoke the fire and making sure the car is plugged in so that it doesn't groan quite as much when we try to go to work.

However, the first snow came all too soon for me. I had been expecting it, anticipating it and basically all around frightened of it. I'm not sure if it was the idea of 8 months of winter that scared me, or the passing of another season. The fall losing its grasp as each day more and more leaves fell to the ground and the air became a bit more crisp.

I woke up one morning with a chill running through my bones. The blankets had come off of my bare feet in the night and I pulled my feet up underneath into the warmth and shuttered. I rolled over and tried to go back to sleep, but the cold had nipped my cheeks and I was forced to get up and put a log on the fire. As I padded across the cool floor in the darkness of the early morning winter I noted to myself that this was the first morning since my arrival that I had been made to get out of bed because of the cold and start a fire anew. up until this moment my fire had held me through the night, allowing me to wake in comfort and pull on a sweater to go make my coffee before re setting the stove.

As i reached the door I paused for a moment, the windows were still dark and the sleep had not yet left my eyes, but something seemed different, the shades seemed to be pulled tightly to their frames, held there, hiding something from my eyes. I pulled open the door to retrieve my wood and was shocked when in front of me was 10 cm of freshly fallen snow. I quickly slammed the door shut, uttered a few obscenities and promptly climbed back into bed and pulled the blankets over my head.
"It's all over" I thought desperately to myself.

I knew this day was coming, but I wasn't ready. The snow falls in the Yukon and takes up post until the spring thaw, which (I've heard) doesn't come until at least May. It was the end of the bare ground being present in my life and the beginning of something new. The days would quickly become darker, the temperature would drop dramatically; sometimes below -40, the days would now include shoveling, plugging in cars, and an ever increasing difficulty in chopping wood and keeping the cabin warm through the cold days and nights.

I peered out from under the blankets and pulled back the shades to look outside. The trees were covered in a light dusting of white, creating a contrast with the greens of the pines that looked almost surreal. the forest seemed to go on forever. There was a stillness that i hadn't yet experienced, and didn't know how to react to. It was as though everything was stopped and sitting in awe.
Looking at the tiny white flakes fall to the ground I got up and again went to the door, this time prepared; dawning boots, and mittens i stepped outside and took a breath of the cool crisp new air.

Maybe snow wouldn't be so bad after-all