Being with people allows me to be who I am in relationship with someone else. Being alone forces me to be in relationship with myself. It's not always pretty. I've noticed a pattern; I'm happiest when in relationship with other people. I'm less happy alone. Not that that's a bad thing. A big part of the choice to go on this journey was to come to grips with the fact that I need to redefine who I am independent of my relationship with Sharon. Being at home, I could approximate my life as it had been, but without the main player in the story. By leaving everything I knew as my “normal” life, I put myself on notice that I had to learn what this new life could be. I'm still waiting for an epiphany, but I'm also not holding my breath that one is forthcoming.
It's these quiet nights in the van with the rain pelting on the roof that I question what my motivation is to be gone so long, and then I question what the concept of “home” even means. I'm well adapted to vanlife at this point, and have no problem living in this tiny home. I enjoy having everything I need at arms length and have jettisoned anything I don't use regularly. What ebbs and flows is my interest in sight-seeing. Sometimes I'm excited to see a beautiful vista or feel enveloped by an old growth forest. Other times I just want to be anywhere other than where I am. Sharing the sights and experiences with you, my readers, is a nice stand-in for sharing the experience with a partner, but ultimately it's just me and my thoughts.
I remember a shift that happened when I rode my bike down the west coast with my friend Nancy after graduating college; we had been traveling for over a month, and one night walking through a campground I had the distinct sensation of “being home” right where I was. I didn't feel like I was “away”. I can't say that has happened to me yet on this trip. I've become comfortable with my routine and my travel rhythm, but I still feel adrift. I can forget that feeling when visiting and when driving through epic landscapes, but in the quiet hours it returns.
There is so much to feel grateful for, I almost feel guilty feeling sad, but I've lived long enough to learn not to pile other emotions on top of the one I'm having. And like everything all the time, I know this will pass and it's just how I'm feeling tonight. Knowing you are following along and interested goes a long way to lift my spirits. Having a conduit to those I love is my lifeline. Thank you.