A Dream I've Been Scared to Pursue
I’m currently listening to the book “Maybe You Should Talk to Someone” by Lori Gottlieb, psychologist and writer. I heard it was cheeky and insightful and full of stories that will make me feel less like a maniac for stalking my ex-boyfriends on Facebook in my 20s after a break up. So far, I feel about 15% less insane as a whole, so things are looking up.
As I churned my body like buttah on the elliptical in our garage yesterday (that was a weird visual but also kind of accurate), I listened to the chapter where Lori recounts her own therapist bringing up the “stuckness” we all often feel when making decisions about our lives. He relayed to her the relatively common metaphor of being trapped behind prison bars, shaking them to get out, only to realize there are no walls on either side of you. You can simply walk free if you’d only take the time to realize that possibility.
This metaphor was coupled with another notion, which is to follow your envy. Whatever makes you envious reveals what you desire. Use that to create the life you want.
As both of these concepts sunk in while I sweated it out next to our stash of pull-ups, my mind immediately wandered to the question, “What is something that makes me feel envious, and am I not doing it because I’m too busy feeling trapped by metal bars? Have I looked around to notice that I can simply walk free and do it if I so please?”
The very first thing that came to mind was a bit unexpected:
I feel tense whenever I see Instafamilies RVing around the country for a year. I wonder what ridiculous careers they have that allows them to afford it. I imagine what kind of woo-woo patience those moms have to homeschool on the road. I low-key roll my eyes at the inevitably boho decor (that I also high-key love) or question where they shower.
But it’s because I’m envious.
I know a long-term family road trip might sound trivial or silly or like a big “duh you can do that,” but I’ve always thought of #vanlife as a “maybe someday” scenario. You know, the type of thing that I’ll probably never actually do. I think most people have things that “would be cool to do”…but few actually follow through. And while I’m usually a follower-through-er, this one dream remained squarely in the “someday” fake-goal pile.
I know in my heart of hearts, though, that it would be a great move (literally) for our family. We already love road tripping in our 4-Runner. After all, we’re about to drive from Alaska to Florida! We love the outdoors. We aren’t attached to material possessions or creature comforts (unless you try and take away my access to Starbucks). Adventure brings tremendous joy to our lives. Sleeping in a tiny house on wheels is right up our alley.
When you boil it down, it’s actually a pretty simple goal. A) Buy a camping vehicle, and B) Set aside the time.
All we have to do is do it.
Listen, this isn’t something that’s only been on my own heart. I’m not going to be dragging my poor husband into an unmarked white van. Aaron’s been dreaming this up for years. And in the spirit of keeping my mom’s memory alive, even she said that when she retired she wanted to rent a little trailer and drive around the country. I’ve wanted it, too, but I’d always tense up when Aaron would show me different vehicle options. But babe how can we afford it? When would you have time off work to go? What age is right for the kids? How do you book campsites? What would people think?
Those questions were my prison bars. I would shake them and protest and kick myself for not having some remote career that would bring in extra cash to allow our family this kind of flexible lifestyle.
But yesterday I chose to walk around the bars.
This whole idea may not unfold this year or next, but the saving can begin now. The research. The planning and decision to do it. Even if we can only go for a few weeks at a time until further down the road (no pun intended) when we can manage our schedules to travel for an entire year, those weeks will be excellent practice and full of beautiful memories.
Aaron is an engineer who spends his career essentially pimping out ships to accommodate coasties while they’re out to sea, so engineering a vehicle for our family is totally in his wheelhouse. The things that scare me, like electrical or insulation or water or storage are things he is completely capable of managing. And I’m good at making anywhere feel like a home. It really is a great fit, and I’d say we make a pretty great team!
Now, instead of feeling annoyed whenever Aaron shows me a Sprinter van or an airstream or a camper, I can let myself feel excited. Of all the things in the world, figuring out how to live on the road with our little family is among the most doable. And if there’s one thing I got from my mom, it’s the determination to actually do the things I dream about.
Move to New York City and pursue singing.
Write the book.
Adopt a child.
Lose the baby weight.
Learn to cook.
Whatever it is that I want, I’m pretty good at actually going after it. I really can’t stand when people talk about wishing for a certain thing in their lives but won’t put in the work to do it. “Don’t try, just do!” as my mom would say.
But even go-getters like me need the reminder to break free from our mental prisons once in a while. I don’t want the practicalities of motherhood to constrain my dreams—especially when they align with my husband’s dreams and I know they’d benefit our whole family. For whatever reason, the traveling-family dream has been a tough one for me to pull the trigger on, and I’m really grateful for good books and ellipticals for bringing me back to one of my core values, courtesy of my mother and Nike: JUST DO IT.
So tonight, Aaron and I have a date to sit down and map out our savings for the next few years. How exciting to get this show on the road! (Get it?) Hope you all will come along for the ride. (Man I’m good.)