Preparing to live in a van has had it’s challenges. I’m not just talking about the modifications – and there are plenty of those! – but also preparing mentally and maybe even emotionally.
Our van is beyond awesome…don’t get me wrong. It has a fridge, a two-burner stove, a sink with running water, two tables, and two bedrooms, all within a space of less than 100-square-feet. That’s pretty sick. But we’re going to have to deny ourselves a lot of the regular comforts that we all take for granted so often. The main ones that freak me out if I think about for too long? – no toilet. no shower. no way to be “alone” when there’s someone else (Dan) in my house. no fixed address – although that one also makes me feel giddy.
I get stressed. I get worried. I doubt my ability to live in a van. I question my sanity. I worry about being judged.
Worrying about being judged – that’s a biggie. We’ve only told a handful of people about our plans in person, and we’ve had mostly positive and supportive reactions. My favourite reaction to date? – telling mom and dad. I timidly approached the topic, explaining how it’s not forever, and we’re hopefully going to find land to rent (no sleeping on the streets…parent’s like to hear that), and that we want to challenge ourselves in a variety of ways. My dad’s immediate response? “Your mom and I are considering buying a truck and mounting a camper on the bed and living in it in Whitehorse Yukon for several months each year.” Yup. My parents just “one-upped” me in the coolness department. I think it’s safe to say they are very supportive of our choice.
But honestly…almost everyone I’ve talked to has been positive, excited, and occasionally even jealous of what we’re about to do. The only remotely negative comments we’ve received have been the expression of the same fears and apprehensions that I have about it inside my own heart. It’s always hard to hear someone else voice those fears…it’s like they’re reading you like an open book and adding flames to your already roaring fire of anxiety.
But they mean well; they just care about us. It’s not the harsh, angry, “better-than-thou” kind of judgement that I so terribly fear (I know, I need to get over this…), but a inquiry into the logistics and details of everyday life.
I hate that we don’t have the answers to all the questions. Isn’t that so typical? To feel uprooted, unsettled and inadequate when I don’t have all my ducks in a row? Always a doer…always grasping for complete control.
And that, ladies and gentlemen, is one of the reasons I want to live in a van! Oh the uncertainty! Oh the sacrifices! Oh the lessons to be learned!
You are not always in control T…and living in a van will remind you of that…regularly. Bad weather, spotty wifi connections, cold nights, van breakdowns (although I’m praying against it!), you name it.
We’ll be just fine…
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