One of the consistently impressive things about life in the woods is the enlarged importance of dreams: if you keep to the natural cycle of light and dark you will sleep more, and arise naturally: and these two things are probably enough to ensure that your mind will get some harvest from its natural crop of dreams.
A few nights ago I dreamt I was being attacked by my father (now many years dead), who was crazed and violent, but I would not defend myself: “He’s my father,” I said, “I’m not going to hurt him.”
This reminds me of a friend a story told me: “I knew this guy who was all into archetypes and I never was. Then I was in a class with him where we told everyone our dreams. His dreams were almost perfectly archetypal dreams, whereas mine were all entirely personal and idiosyncratic. Then I understood why he was so interested in archetypes and I wasn’t.”