So many people think I am a spontaneous adventurer. But really, I’m quite the homebody. I’m much more comfortable hanging out in the comfort of the RV, working, writing, putzing, than being out in the world, exploring.
And yet that is exactly what I’ll be doing on the upcoming Heart Sparks Road Tour.
And so planning this road trip has been a constant back and forth of excitement and fear, and a whole lot of not knowing.
Some days I play on Google maps, using Roadtrippers.com and atlasobscura.com to find quirky places. Some days I reach out to people in a city along the route to see about getting together. Some days I drive myself crazy with questions that I have no answers for:
How far do I want to drive in a day?
How many days in a row do I really want to be driving before I stay somewhere for a day or two?
How long do I want to be on the road total?
Who do I know along the way?
How many miles off of my route should I travel for odd quirky things to see?
I know I don’t need to have every day and night planned, but if I have to be in Atlanta on May 9 for a workshop, I do need to have some idea of how long I want to take to get there.
So I’m practicing planning and staying open at the same time.
And it is exciting. It is also very, very uncomfortable. Some days I think I should just cancel the whole trip. I tell myself it’s so many miles, so much money, so many unknowns and things to think about.
And then I get stuck.
Sometimes it is the sadness of the lost dream of Marika and I doing this trip together. Sometimes it is the hugeness of figuring it all out. And sometimes the stuckness has no name.
Recently I felt a resistance that loomed larger than the idea of driving across Texas and I had to step back from the planning and sit with what didn’t feel very good.
I realized that I was avoiding taking the RV in for repairs for fear of what might need to be done, and how much it would cost. The RV has been mostly sitting, undriven, for the last two and a half years here it the beach. Things have rusted. Who knew what else might be wrong. And I probably needed six new tires, too.
I believe that money is energy. And energy needs to keep moving. I’d been so stuck in my fears of this looming expense, so afraid to spend money ANYWHERE, because of this pending expense, that suddenly, I was hardly making any money. And that was freaking me out even more.
And then I reminded myself that I had budgeted $2000 specifically for this reason-to get the RV road ready. But because I didn’t actually have the money in my account (it is coming in the first loan payment from my dad), I didn’t think I had it.
But money is energy. And that $2000 has my name on it. So I took the RV in and fixed the rear brakes, a broken spring, got an oil change, and several new hoses. And I only needed four new tires, and they’ll be in next week.
And while I was parked at the mechanic’s while they did the repairs, Cody and I stayed inside and I got to test out the self-containment system, another thing I was dreading. All this time being plugged into electricity, I wasn’t sure if the solar panels were still charging the house batteries, but everything worked. The water pump is making some noise, so I may need to replace it, but that’s actually something we’ve replaced ourselves before, so it’s just the parts.
When I spoke to Marika on the phone while I waited, reviewing what was going to be repaired, I started to cry. “Why?” she asked, and I said, “I’m that much closer to actually doing this.”
So this is me stepping out into a new way of living. This is about exploring and doing new things, meeting people I only know on Facebook and finding ways to be EXCITED about this new adventure.