I keep fantasising about living in total solitude in a forest

The question I am a woman in my early 30s and about two years ago, I moved out of London and back home with my parents as I found the city soul-crushing: expenses and rent constantly going up and a sense of only surviving there, for which I saw no end in sight. I don’t think it’s unrelated that I felt my job placed unceasing, unrealistic expectations of availability on me and gave no acknowledgment of that in return.

Now, I’m working remotely in a job I like well enough, that pays me more than I’ve ever made in my life for relatively easy work, allowing me to save. I’m enjoying being around nature and having the extra time with my family as I contemplate my next steps. But I find myself with no desires, no thoughts about where I might live or what I see my life looking like. I still feel that something is not quite right.

I have a persistent fantasy of being tucked up in a house in a forest, completely isolated, with no interruptions or responsibilities, no phone or internet. Crucially, in this fantasy, I feel content and safe in my solitude. I imagine days filled with comfort and peace: writing, contemplation, reading, time in nature and cooking. All the things I love to do most, most of which I already find time for in my day-to-day. It’s unrealistic, but I think it might be telling me something about what I want. How can I decipher it and learn what it’s telling me?

Philippa replies You might not have found out where your life’s path is heading, but you have discovered where you don’t want it to go, and I feel this fantasy could be about you running away from that. Could this feeling of something not being right stem from running away rather than moving towards what’s next?

There is power in appreciating what you have now. Cultivating gratitude does not negate the search for deeper purpose but rather grounds you in the present, offering a sense of balance. It can remind you that while the future may be unclear, there are still sources of warmth and connection in your life; small gifts that sustain you in the present. You also mention feeling a lack of desire. Craving and clinging are what keep us stuck in cycles of dissatisfaction, always chasing something just out of reach. The absence of desire, then, doesn’t have to be bleak or apathetic. It can be a freedom. Your vision of a perfect, peaceful life isn’t something to dismiss, but maybe it’s pointing to something else and maybe it is this: peace isn’t about running off to

a forest and escaping life, but learning to be present with what’s in front of you, wherever you are. Even in that idyllic forest, you’d still have challenges.

Does your isolated cottage in the forest represent an invitation to explore something that just comes from you, rather than from external pressures? Or maybe in the forest, do you feel you can be who you really are rather than what society seems to be telling you you ought to be? It is OK to be yourself, even among others. True connection happens when we allow ourselves to be seen, rather than hiding behind a mask.

Something else stands out in your words, not just in what you say, but in what you don’t. You describe your last job as though the role itself was hijacking your attention and offering nothing in return, but a role doesn’t do that: people do. Yet there is no mention of managers or colleagues, of who was placing these unrealistic demands on you. Now, you are staying with family, but you don’t say who they are, or what those relationships feel like. You describe no friendships, no romantic connections, no social ties, as though you are moving through life almost untouched by other people. This makes your fantasy of total isolation feel significant, not just as a natural preference for solitude, but as something that might be rooted in beliefs you have formed about other people. Introverts often need solitude to recharge, but they also form meaningful friendships, they love, they build relationships.

It is, of course, fine to want a quiet, independent life, but I wonder if you might gently ask yourself whether your experience of people has shaped beliefs that are now limiting your life rather than enriching it. Have you come to believe that connection is more of a burden than a source of meaning? If so, are those beliefs serving you, or are they reinforcing the very sense of disconnection you are struggling with?

Maybe your isolation vision reflects a need to escape from the weight of responsibility that life inevitably brings. You may find solace in imagining being free from all obligations, but we cannot escape the responsibility we carry towards ourselves, to find a life that resonates with our values.

Recommended reading: Wintering: The Power of Rest and Retreat in Difficult Times by Katherine May and an early book of mine feels significant here too: How To Stay Sane.

Every week Philippa Perry addresses a personal problem sent in by a reader.
If you would like advice from Philippa, please send your problem to askphilippa@guardian.co.uk. Submissions are subject to our terms and conditions