Jumping into a void of not-knowing is what I mean by wild living. Life looking one way today and being something entirely different tomorrow. Moving through places, communities, friendships and relationships that have called me, I have taken on many roles in this precious life, at times switching worlds from one day to the next. The joy and challenges that come with this way of life is what I would like to convey to you, and share with you, as well as the incredible empowerment that comes with mastering unknown situations – be it effortlessly, or with physical or emotional difficulty.
One life today, another tomorrow – Canada 2017
One such shift from one world to another happened in 2017 when one day I was on a sailboat, dealing with an ending relationship, engine problems and not-knowing regarding my next steps all at once, and the sudden, completely unexpected beginning of 3-months full-time construction work on land in the company of a friend 2 days later. How did that happen?
It was the end of a 2-month sailing trip with my partner: up the coast of Nova Scotia, to Newfoundland and back which clarified two things: my relationship was over and my new home was Newfoundland. As soon as we arrived and I put my foot on that sacred land – the southern shores of a remote island on Canada’s east coast – I knew I had found my new home. The expansion of my body’s energy fields and my whole being was indescribable. On our fist walk on land I took off my clothes and jumped into a lake, naked. My partner asked: “What are you doing?” I replied without hesitation: “Introducing myself to Newfoundland.” He commented that the land may get scared. Well it was not. I returned soon after and it held me in its arms for 4 years.
My bank account was close to empty. I had picked up on my PhD in marine biology, researching the grouping behaviour of offshore marine mammals esp. dolphins and whales 6 months ago to complete what I had already invested a lot of time and passion into, and what was still unfinished 8 years after its beginning. A few years past I had stopped working on it – that was in New Zealand – because I saw the same patterns of toxic institutionalism enmeshed with the ways in which we study this fascinating world to understand it better in too many countries. I was done with academia. As much as I love the ocean and all life on this planet the ways in which we conduct science and treat each other in academic communities are foreign to me. Yet what lingered over my shoulder incomplete had to come to some sort of finish point in some way.
My supervisor had retired years ago. Months of trying to find replacement had led nowhere. My PhD was unfunded – too unconventional in its approach. All I had was that strong calling to this remote land that stretches out into the Atlantic further than any other point of North America. Its water and rocky earthyness matched my needs for stability and a home for a few years exactly. How to make that happen? No idea.
Putting one foot in front of the other I took my laptop, jumped into the dinghy and rowed over to the sailing club of Northwest Arm, Halifax. Living without a phone since years I sent an email to a good friend from a few years ago who lives in Kentville, Nova Scotia, briefly explaining the situation and asking if I can stay with her for a few days. I would come the next day. The answer came quickly: “Yes”. I booked the bus ticket, rowed back to the boat, told my partner that I am leaving the boat the next day, packed, said ‘no’ to his plea to stay and help him put the engine back together (there was a harbour full of people who could help instead), and got on that bus the next day.
Two minutes after arrival in Wolfville – a beautiful little town I had called home for 10 months several years before – my friend appeared to pick me up. It’s one of those friends. Whenever we see each other it appears as though no time has passed since we were last together. 5 minutes later she asked me: “Can you work for me in my property management company doing construction work? I know you have done such work before. We have lost 2 employees this week – one fired after he stole thousands of dollar from the company, the other has quit because he can’t get along with the manager.
Immediate listening inside. What does my body say? What came out of my mouth was: “Yes, actually I could use some money. It would be win-win for both of us. When do you want me to start?” “Is tomorrow OK?”
I had just jumped off a sailboat that was home and took me to some of the most beautiful corners of Nova Scotia and Newfoundland – no focus other than nature walks, some sailboat maintenance, navigation, cooking food, watching caribou and moose – living into the day. Tomorrow she wants me to start a full-time job – something I had never done in my life before actually. It was clear that this would only be for a few months, yet this was a switch of worlds within two days. I said “yes”. And this is where logic ends and fails. Logically this made no sense, neither for me nor for my friend. I had no Canadian work visa. Construction work requires running table saws, tile cutters, grinders etc. In case of an accident this would all come out. My friend would get into tremendous trouble for hiring someone illegally, and I would be kicked out of the country that I had just found out needed to be my home for the next years – that calling from the lands of Newfoundland. Yet she needed a worker and I needed money to take my next steps.
I worked with her all-men team for 3 months and enjoyed every day of it. The manager of the company became a friend, the connections with the other workers were enriching. Every lunch break I walked to the nearby Gaspereau River valley, admired the stunningly beautiful Indian summer – tree foliage in brights orange, dark red, yellow… Every Friday I treated myself to an espresso in the cafe next door. My friend and I enjoyed the time together. No accidents, no problems. As I got ready to leave with the money I needed to move forward, I asked her: “Can I add this job to my CV, or would that possibly cause problems for us in the future?” “You can’t. I paid you in cash, without contract, and you have no work visa.” “So I have never worked here.” “Correct.” She drove me to Halifax airport. We hugged. I got on the airplane to St. John’s, Newfoundland, knowing nobody there, looking for a room to rent.
A couple days later I moved into a lovely, little shared house in one of the oldest parts of St. John’s, 100m from the cliffs and the wild Atlantic Ocean. Another 2 weeks later I had a new supervisor for the completion of my PhD who works at Memorial University of Newfoundland. The thesis was successfully defended in Germany in October 2018 where I had manged to re-enroll to complete the degree after all those years. Till the day of my oral defense I was uncertain whether my PhD would be recognised as such due to the unconventional semi-scientific approach I had taken. Yet inside I knew all along that this work needed completion and that completion would happen in one way, or another. And it did.
It is as simple and as difficult as putting one foot in front of the other, trusting what we already know, without asking a lot of questions, getting caught up in mental gymnastics of ‘What if …’ or the weighing of risks. I took a lot of risks, always did and likely always will, particularly in these times in which we have to deal with external structures and institutions which do not agree with the ways in which Nature works and in which our wisdom unfolds from the inside out in response to the circumstances we are presented with in our daily lives.
Sadly I see so many people limiting themselves by getting caught up in their head and in consequence not taking the steps they know would be right for them, because friends, or family may not approve of it, money may run out, the job my be gone etc. These same people then often run into one obstacle after the other because this planet is run by Nature and their actions are not in alignment with that force that runs through us and that we can choose to embody. This is neither something religious, nor spiritual, nor radical (although most people perceive it as such). It is simply how life organises itself on this planet. There is a certain order which we can sense at any moment in time if we dare to listen.
I chose to share this example of switching worlds within two days because it is a classic of how everything suddenly begins to flow when clear decisions are made. Is it always easy? No. Completing my PhD, re-familiarising myself with the field after a several year break, sourcing and analysing tons of data, dealing with academic institutions in my mid-thirties certainly bore its challenges and took an unforeseeable level of stamina. Yet it worked out rather smoothly and was exactly what was needed, even though I never did anything with this degree after. Incomplete tasks linger in the background and prevent peace and true rest until they are brought to a clear finishing point.
Stone circles & financial spontaneity – Ireland 2024
I am on a 6-week wild camping and hitch-hiking trip along some of Ireland’s beautiful southwestern shores – in November. The sacredness of stone circles, standing stones, pre-Christian burial sites and forts meets extreme uncertainty with regards to weather conditions and camp sites, and the type of modern financial spontaneity that ensues when one is living outside the monetary system system as much as possible yet has to cover unpredictable costs along the way. Navigating a wild ride anew every day.
Again I followed that calling of the land that arose in me when I was wondering what the next step would be. I had committed to a work exchange with a remote hostel in county Mayo for September/October and no idea what would come after that until about 10 days before I left. I had given away my down sleeping bag 2.5 years ago when I turned my back on Canada. For this trip I have a maximum of 200 Euro with which I would have to cover food costs, costs connected with access to internet to stay in touch with people and keep work on the Sunbeings.org website going, and whatever unexpected costs may be encountered along the way, including transport, or even accommodation if things get too intense and don’t work out. But the signal is clear and a travel route emerges effortlessly. The places that need to be visited reveal themselves promptly and with ease and excitement. Very little research time is needed.
What people would I run into when stretching out that thumb to catch a ride to the next destination? Will the money last for the trip, or will I get stuck somewhere with nothing left? Will the places I chose to pitch the tent be safe, or will my stuff – the things I need to survive in Irish November weather – be stolen? Will I be emotionally able to travel alone in such an intense and unpredictable way? All questions one could ask, start pondering, getting caught up in the head. I did not inquire into any of them but simply started and put one foot in front of the other along the way.
What ensued are trust and surrender. Surrender for example when I was sitting in the tent near ‘Hag of Beara’ – an ancient stone of great significance – unable to go anywhere because it was pouring down rain all day and my rain jacket turned out to not do its job anymore. I sat in silence, then did some sewing work. With only a few clothes in my bag that are used heavily and under all kinds of conditions there is always something that needs to be fixed. Then a short break from the rain. I wondered if the wind is increasing in strength and suddenly decided to get out of the tent and setup the other two storm lines. Two minutes later it is pouring down rain again and the wind turned into a storm. Luckily and wisely the tent is something that I had really invested into, back in Canada, knowing that I would use it in all seasons and under who knows what weather conditions. It is light-weight, yet very durable and strong.
I had seen the Hag of Beara only for 2 minutes in passing before looking for a place to camp, and yet when rain and storm abated the next morning I knew I had to leave, no matter how much I wanted to walk up the hill to see her again. 4.5km to Eyeries, then 6.5km to Castletownbere. The last bit I was hoping to hitch-hike but for the first bit there would hardly be anyone on the remote road on an early Sunday morning. I packed my trekking backpack, took down the tent and attached it to the bag, then walked 200 meter down the road in the direction I needed to go. There was an older man walking with his dog who greeted me friendly.
I explained to him that I am the person who had been in the tent in the very end of the road (since all off-road places in the area were too saturated with water from a lot of rain over the entire summer season). “Where are you going?” he asked. “Eyeries.” “Do you want a ride? I have to go their in a few minutes to bring something to the post office.” Is this possible? Can it be that easy? It was that easy. The cafe in Eyeries was closed and I decided to keep moving to Castletownbere. Stretching out my thumb a car stopped almost immediately. For me, this is a confirmation that I am on the right track. The next morning the rain turned into a slushy snowy mess and I was beyond glad to be in a place where I can walk into a warm library, check my emails and get some work done.
The camping place I had chosen by looking at an online map turned out to be private property. There was a spruce forest which, I figured, would provide privacy and protection from wind. Well, not much choice since the urban area does not offer a lot of suitable sites to pitch a tent. I climbed over the stone wall and setup camp. It felt a bit scary, as it often does when I don’t know if the places I choose are safe, or appropriate in the eyes of the local people. And – as each and every time so far – it worked out. My body said that it was OK to camp in this forest and I found out once more that following that signal is the way to staying safe. I was a bit scared when I heard and saw someone fairly close handling a flashlight and moving stuff around in the evening after dark though. Would he see me? How would he react. Carina – trust. I did. A few minutes later it was quiet and I slept through a calm night under the trees.
The next morning I heard steps on the forest floor from inside the tent and a dog started barking a few meters away. I was up even though it was still dark as daylight comes late at this time of year. Whoever was out there said nothing but moved on, back to his house about 100 meters away – likely the same person I saw the previous evening with the flashlight. I decided to finish getting ready, then put on my little backpack to go into town, and stopped at his place on the way. He was outside. I explained that I am the person in the tent and asked if it is OK that I am there. “Yes, yes. For how long are you staying?” A quick tuning in with myself followed. Then the answer came promptly even though I had not thought about that question before: “2 nights. 1 more night. Is that OK?” “Yes, no problem.” Camp place sorted.
Even though the little library is great for using wifi, checking emails etc., I don’t like the very industrial, dense vibes of this town. I visited the stone circle and the old fort which was enjoyable and deep, but then felt that after the 2 nights I had agreed to with the owner of the land I was staying on, it was indeed time to move on. How did I know? How did my body know?
The driver who stopped when I stretched out my thumb, standing on the side of the road, went above and beyond to get me to my destination – as so many drivers before along the way. He drove far past his destination and brought me all the way to Glengarriff. In the end of the drive he told me how uplifted he felt by our conversation and how enjoyable this ride had been for him. Again – almost every time this is the way it goes. This is so satisfying and empowering.
But now I am back to having to buy a coffee for $3 each time I need to use the internet because Glengarriff does not have a library. This sums up quickly. Yet I go with it. When I see a pair of merino wool socks, knitted in a traditional craft place in Ireland, and offered at $10 – much less than I had seen before – I purchased those too, knowing that I needed them the coming night as the temperature was dropping below 0 degree.
The next day I passed by a shop which also sells locally made clothing and some other crafts, and I cannot believe my luck. Rain jackets on sale! At this time of year. $16 it says on the ticket. I had been wondering how to complete my trip with that very leaky jacket of mine that was falling apart. The store manager came out of the building and explained that these are children’s jackets but sometimes adult people fit them. He invites me to come inside and try one on. Meanwhile he and I had a lovely conversation as there was no one else in the store on this cold Friday morning. The jacket fits. I went to the counter to pay knowing that this was an incredible deal and that I need this jacket so much. Yet also wondering how this journey will continue financially as I am spending quite a bit more money than I had expected. As I pulled out my wallet my ears cannot believe the sounds entering them: “I will sell you this jacket for $10, OK?” The very next day it is pouring down rain once more and I am ever so thankful to be able to walk around without getting soaked.
Step by step, one foot in front of the other, looking people into the eyes, sharing about my life, moving exactly based on what I feel is needed rather than by mental analysis. Living a wild, unpredictable journey, often of deep surrender when I don’t know what will be in 2 days, or even in 1 hour. New places again and again. I never know what I will find when I get there. Often the map looks differently from the reality I meet once I am there. Yet it is always clear, although often illogical what needs to happen next. For me this works and I feel that I am part of something that is beyond my control, yet always takes care of my needs as long as I follow its current. I wish you that you can see, hear and feel this current too because then fear disappears. There is so much trust in seeing over and over that yes circumstances may be challenging but the experiences that come with the journey are incredible.
Lot’s of love to all of you.
7 thoughts on “Wild living – Challenges & beauty – By Carina Ramm”
Carina! What can I say in response to your shared experiences? My first instruction led me to read your email which took precedence over every other email in my inbox. Three-quarters of the way through reading your blog post, I am full-on crying because of your connection to your personal instructions and your responsible actions taken thereafter and those who listened to their source connection to help you link the dots on your roadmap… there is nothing like uplifting and inspiring others to take those leaps of deep trust by listening and following your own authority. THANK YOU, from all of me in my multidimensionality. Love’s harmonies leading the way. xx
Thank you so much Leanda! Likewise I enjoy your sharings a lot and feel that we need to hear or read about each others experiences in these crazy times. The inspiration that is conveyed brings so much peace and reassurance along the rocky roads that we are wandering. Lot’s of love to you too…
Thank you so much, Carina, I harmoniously agree! Onward we travel… xx
Carina, this is so beautiful..helping us trust and surrender more and more to what is so much bigger than us…thank you so much for listening so deeply, it is inspiring..
Thank you Urvi!
Hi Carina,
So glad you met some lovely people in Ireland.
I like the picture of the stone circle – it looks impressive.
To hear how your adventure is unfolding there is exciting.
Every place you visit benefits i’m sure – perhaps is activated.
You still follow your path with appreciation and absolute trust.
It’s something we draw inspiration from
So thanks again for sharing!
All best
Thank you so much for the lovely feedback Robin!