Such is the way of going off grid, escape to the solitude, return with renewed vigor. Following your path to nature, then following its return to your life, the place of hopes and dreams where you are involved with people and groups.

Recent violence in the news depicts a man who lived off grid. Certainly, this is one of the senses of the phrase ‘off grid’ that is clearly understood: people who isolate. Nothing particularly new about it, though the violence is certainly significant. Sure there are politics, but they are a veneer for insanity.

Because he lived off grid, I want to talk about it here. Main thing, it’s an accepted fact that most primates, more specifically, pretty much all humans go crazy and die when isolated. Crazy doesn’t remove any of the guilt, but it points to something that might be avoidable, well, more avoidable. We need people around us to survive; it’s part of our nature, our required ecosystem. It’s way more complicated than that, of course, but in regards to the ‘off grid’, isolation is never a place to live.

I love being alone. I especially love it off grid. Nature is there to embrace you. My solo journeys to nature are half the story, though. Seeking the path to nature with friends is always preferred, always a turn you would have missed, always a view you weren’t facing. Always.

Sometimes you wake up off grid and you ask yourself, “Where am I?” There’s a moment where it’s a question as you emerge from the strange place called sleep. I suppose anyone who travels a lot will experience this bewildering moment and get used to it. But when it’s off grid, the realization that you’re in nature changes your perspective on the day.

You awake, immediately you notice the air is so very fresh and clear. You can breath more easily than at home because while you’ve slept you experienced the clean air of the off grid with every breath. Perhaps the pines or sage or juniper waft faintly in the cool morning air. The sun is rising… just stay in bed for a sec …