I have had a few intense moments out in the woods learning to live off-grid. I had disrupted my whole life and then left for the woods to sort it all out again. By “disrupted” I mean, if you were to take Maslow’s hierarchy of needs, I had dismantled each level in my life.
When I moved in on September 1st, 2022 I was staring down a Manitoba winter with my woodstove in pieces; the walls were insulated but they did not have poly or cladding—there were one or two sections that would let in a slight breeze. I was cooking on a camp stove outside and charging my batteries off-site because the solar system was a mystery yet to be solved.
On top of this, my social world had profoundly changed since leaving my marriage and conventional partnering models, and I was diving head first into deconstructing the social fabric of values, beliefs and behaviors that I had taken for grated all my life.
In other words, I was lost in the woods.
I had many moments pushed to the brink of my capacity that fall. What got me though?
Stars, trees and story.
At one point I took time to print off images of all the solitary women from films and books whose bravery and capacity I wanted to take on. I put them on my bookshelf as a reminder to dig deep and find those qualities inside of me. Other moments I would climb onto my roof and look at the stars to remind myself I belonged in this cosmos. And in a few intense moments I went deep into the woods with burning tears and put my back against a tree to feel held by a living being who was rooted into the caring Mother. These were all instinctual ways for me to work through feelings of weakness, despair, and insanity that would creep in from time to time.
I realized that I consumed meaning like some people consume food. I can push myself really hard and find capacity for really hard things—but only if I have meaning. If I can find meaning in the pain I have stamina.
When I think of Maslow’s Hierarchy of needs I wonder if we have done a great disservice to ourselves and social fabric by organizing these needs into a pyramid? This first experience in the woods, one of living into uncomfortable hard change, makes me think that food and shelter are not enough on their own—they need meaning. I think that every human, rooted or displaced, well or unwell, connected or disconnected has both physical and non-physical needs—and they are both critical.
In times of austerity, when resources are limited and belts and fists are tightening, inside a pyramid model, resources move down to support the base of the hierarchy. But I question the wisdom of this. My experience tells me in times of difficulty, we need to find ways to not only support physical infrastructure, but also support meaning making infrastructure.
I don’t think it’s a hierarchy, I think it’s a web of needs. I think for all of us to survive the Anthropocene we are going to need our shipwrights to make us new vessels while our cultural workers sing us through the waves of disruption that are already hitting us hard. I think it’s time to rework Maslow’s pyramid into a spiderweb.
Alexandra Ross Works 