The space between
what’s wrong and right
Is where you’ll find
me hiding, waiting for you
The space between your
heart and mine
Is the space we’ll
fill with time…
- Dave Matthews
It’s the little things.
Like a new plastic folding table that can tuck away and serve as a place for my coffee cup in the morning. My routine is to sit on my bed and write
until the sun shines too brightly through my window and then I move to
David’s. Where to put the coffee mug has
been a big concern. The floor, too
low. The bed, too unstable. Can’t hold it and type. Problem solved for $10.99. And, we have now disposed of the second mouse
that was bold enough to run past me twice last night. Sharing this small space with two big dogs
and another human is quite enough.
Sharing with small furry rodents who poop on my stuff and make nests out
of my precious snuggly things, not gonna happen.
More small stuff. I
found a matching set of our cowboy sheets online and now we will have the ability
to have clean sheets at whim.
Yippy! I googled cowboy sheets
and up they popped. Ahhh the marvels of
modern living. Yesterday, we also discovered
‘Camping World’ a mini-Wal-Mart for all things mobile home. Kids in a candy store, we wandered the aisles
looking for items to create more creature comforts. Hooks for the inside of closet doors, an
entry rug, the awaited rolling holding tank with which to empty our onboard shitter
and my already mentioned folding table.
We also bought a small table and chairs to hold our umbrella and make
outdoor dining a reality. We are
homesteading.
Besides the giant pile of dirt the excavators left in
removing our house, it seems that we hang on a lovely, albeit scorched, area of
vacant land. We are merely campers
here. We don’t disrupt much. We leave it better than we found it. We pack our trash out and leave the area as pristine
as possible. We live in harmony with the
elements. We practice on our own land
before we take Flame on the open road to a “real” campground. Another benefit of finding Camping World is
we are now members (!!!!) and we get discounts at campgrounds across the
country. America, here we come. We will start gently with a campground the
Meehan’s have already discovered 2 ½ hours southeast. We will test our mettle and make sure our
badges are properly earned before we set out for more adventurers like the
Grand Canyon. David’s colleague lives within
the park at the Canyon – and is requiring visits. Wintering there for a few weeks or more
sounds like an excellent plan.
I wonder how I will be.
Do I want to pick up my shallow roots and move so soon? I am a nestler. I like to settle, burrow and get cozy. I love my adventures but crave ‘home’. Now our 26 feet of home will follow behind
the truck with the dogs and us. Maybe we
will become nomads. Airstream nomads,
that is. I don’t aspire to backcountry backpacking
lugging essentials on my slender frame.
I am past that point in life. At
46, I want adventure but not wacky adventure.
Our work is portable. David needs
to go to Seattle regularly but perhaps he will leave me in varying landscapes. Solo at the Grand Canyon, alone by some
mountain lake somewhere, by myself by the beach? Locked and loaded with two big dogs as my
protectors, I know I will be safe.
I like the idea of wandering for a bit or maybe longer. If not now, then when else? My 74-year-old father romanticizes about our
silver bullet. He would love to hit the
road as well. It’s most likely not a
good idea for him at this point in his life.
I don’t want to get to the point where it’s no longer and option and say
I wish we could have, would have. In the
world of “should’s”, that definitely should
be one of the lessons from this fire, right?
Speaking of lessons, I am letting go of needing to know what
I will learn for now. I will reside in
the unmanifested for a little while longer.
In some ways I want to know now and in many more ways I don’t. This is a precious time before much has taken
form. No major decisions have been made,
no ground has been broken, no large amount of money has been spent, no new
paths have been worn. We are
formulating. We are wondering. We are hanging in that for as long as
possible. I want these lessons badly. I demand the transformation that will
come. I crave to be rid of the confining
parts of my self and live more from expansive possibility. I insist on more of this rawness and less of
the concerns about what others will think.
And, for now, I will be where I am – in the in-between. In the land of the unknown, the land of the unformed.
I will rest in the ‘space between’ for a bit longer. Feel free to visit me here.
Love you for quoting Dave Matthews.
ReplyDeleteLove you for embracing the unknown, the in between space where the adventure lies.
EVEN love you for the adventures you will have (not so happy about you leaving here. TAKE ME WITH YOU!)
Most of all, love you for ALL of it. Keep shining on.
ooooooh I adore you. and you know it.
DeleteI say: Hit the road, baby! And if you want to come east towards the Connecticut shoreline, I have a nice big driveway! Love, Nettie
ReplyDeleteOne day the East coast! Love you Nettie!
Delete