Posts tagged: vanlife
It's midnight and am sitting on an air mattress with my new pup, Dewey, asleep by my side. After six months of driving, analyzing, planning, reanalyzing, and Craigslist-ing.. I'm finally sliding under a big down comforter in a house with a deep sigh of relief. You can stop running. You can rest.
This didn't happen effortlessly, although it could have (more on that another time). And even now I still have hesitations.
Exactly one year ago I rode my awkward old Raleigh two-speed bike to the Wellington Library. Despite it almost being summer, the New Zealand capital was cold and windy, and I ordered a flat white while staying bundled in my big down jacket and scarf.
I sat at a table in the library cafe and pulled out a drawing pad. I had no idea what I was doing — just playing around with pen and paper, like usual — and sketched the first-ever #atwildwoman.
Recently, for the first time ever, I felt unsafe in the van.
I stopped in a tiny town in Oregon for a quick break on my way from Portland to the Northern California redwoods. It was a warm, sunny evening and I just loved it. So I decided to stay the night.
The last five years I've been roaming around the world looking (unknowingly) for happiness. I moved from New Jersey to San Francisco. I quit my day job. I lived in New Zealand for a year. I built out a van and started traveling all over North America.
During these pursuits I never recognized how externally-dependent my happiness was. I didn't view any of my dreams as particularly superficial (like simply wanting to be rich or famous) so I didn't think twice about their origins.