Lessons from the Road

Driving at sunset

I’ve only been on the road for 2 days and already I feel like I could write a book on my experiences traveling.  Living in the van hasn’t changed. It doesn’t matter whether I’m parked in my back parking lot, or in someone’s driveway, or at a campground.  I still wake up and make coffee, lie in bed and check e-mails and listen to NPR in the morning. I cook the same, shower the same, and play on my laptop the same no matter where I park. But what has changed drastically is my state of mind.

I’ve really had to redefine my concept of the word “home.”  I’ve said to my friends several times “back home…”   There is no longer any “back home.”  Truly, I Live HERE! That is true wherever I am. I understood that a few years back when I was in Peru, high on a sacred cactus containing mescaline. If I close my eyes, I can still conjure up that feeling again, but I haven’t quite integrated it into my brain’s knowledge base. I have lived in a lot of sticks and bricks homes, all over the country. And each time I moved from one place to another, the new place became home quickly.  It’s different now. Wherever I stop, even if just to run in to get coffee, is now “home.” Trying to grasp that notion is not only liberating but at times, quite frightening. It will take me some time to adjust.

The next thing I learned is I have way too much stuff. I was so proud to go from a 4500 square foot warehouse to an 80 square foot box on wheels. But the van is heavy. So much so that it impedes my driving.  I must do another round of editing. I need to let go of about 1/3 of my current possessions.  There is no reason for me to have 8 forks.  Or 5 plates. Or enough t-shirts to wear a different one every day of the month.

Even though I’ve been living in the van full time since last September, I have been parked on my property, in the back lot of a building I owned. If I needed something that wasn’t in the van, I just ran inside and got it. When I needed to do laundry, I just went inside and did it.  Those luxuries (or addictions) have evaporated.

I had some mechanical trouble with my van the first day I started out.  It lacks power and needs a tune-up.  Post pandemic, auto mechanics are booked up for months. Only with a lot of begging and being on the verge of tears did I convince someone to get me in for the tune up two weeks from now.  And that lead to the revelation that when my VAN needs to go in for a tune-up, my home goes with it.  (gulp).  It’s a little bit daunting.  I’ve learned that well-thought-out plans turn on a dime. Being a type-A person, it will be an adjustment to slow down and live in the moment. Where am I going next?  I don’t know. I thought I did yesterday, but I am not sure today. When am I going there?  Again, I don’t know for sure.

Although I’m only about 100 miles from where I last lived, everything seems very much in flux.  The constants in my life are friends who love me and a loyal dog who travels with me. Everything else seems to change from minute to minute. I’m hoping I can make that feel totally freeing at some point, but for now, it sometimes feels quite disorienting.