“Smile at your critics for they have yet to see the universe that exists outside the box.”
In two weeks I leave for a new physical therapy job in South Carolina. I plan to live in my van while I’m there, stealth park around town and join the YMCA for both workout and hygiene purposes.
Life as an under-the-radar van dweller, yay! Though I’m a little nervous about it, too, in the same way I was nervous before I started my Appalachian Trail hike.
Because I’m not exactly sure what I’m getting myself into.
Discomfort makes me happy
I just know I’m happiest when I dwell in the discomfort of trying new things. Living on the other side of normal gives me a charge.
So living in my van for a few months will be a new kind of uncomfortable adventure. My van isn’t a cushy Winnebago with all the mod cons. It’s super-minimalist at the moment and will stay that way for a while because I won’t have time to do all the upgrades I envision until next summer.
(If you want to see a tour, I posted a video on Youtube. I'm new to making videos. Don't judge the random shots of the neighbor's yard. I'm cool with imperfection.)
I’ll be living without running water or refrigeration for a few months. Parking somewhere different every night with fingers crossed I don’t get busted and asked to move.
I wake up at night worrying about how I’ll manage the stealth parking and the personal care without running water and do it while still keeping up with a job and my blog and my sketching habit.
Will I have more freedom or less to juggle my passions while I’m essentially on a prolonged urban camping trip. (That sounds like "homeless," doesn't it?) Where will I spit out my toothpaste or empty my chamber pot? Where do I empty the cooler when the ice melts? Where do I fill up my five-gallon water jug?
I don’t know, yet, but I know from my hiking experience that I’ll figure it all out, that there will always be something new to learn and that everything will work out for the best.
It always works out for the best.
Magic happens, I’ve learned, when you’re doing the thing that gives you that unmistakeable charge, the jolt that lets you know you’re in exactly the right place no matter how crazy it may look to anyone else.
And no matter how crazy it looks even to me.
Stay tuned for details and possible hilarity. I'll be posting on YouTube more and I'd love it if you subscribed to the Ruby Throat Journal channel. Fingers crossed I get better at the videography.