This is Me

I am brave, I am bruised

I am who I'm meant to be, 

                                                       this is me

Songwriters: Justin Paul / Benj Pasek This Is Me lyrics © Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd., DistroKid

Song begins at 58 seconds

Everyone makes choices everyday. Some of those choices are quick and insignificant. 

"A venti white chocolate mocha frappuccino, please."

Others you may think about for months, perhaps years. Plan and plan, organize and save, sure you have things figured out to the smallest detail. But, no matter how meticulous you are, one can simply not plan for a world wide pandemic. Nor the physical, emotional and financial fallout from said pandemic.  

One can simply not anticipate the fallout of living inside a 32 foot 'tin coop' for endless months, while the world around you is in complete lockdown. Needing papers to drive around. The endless search for toilet paper and disinfectant. Months of unbreathable air, caused not by the virus, but the California wildfires. 

Then, the inevitable funerals attended online, because we are locked in place hundreds to thousands of miles from so many family and friends. The smallest blessing is that we were able to attend funerals we would never have been able to go to if not for the COVID lockdown.

I don't know if our fulltime RVing experiment would have survived in a non-coronavirus world, but it did not survive COVID. In March, Natalie and I moved into a makeshift 'halfway house' with Ryan, Amanda and a group of weary wayward warriors all homeless for varying reasons.

Luci looking out at the Blood Moon Eclipse

After a very explosive beginning of the end of our RVing life, Natalie and I have spent the past three months living with eight foot high ceilings and flushing toilets. Perhaps, though, the most noticeable change is the entire world does not shake with every single move we make. Whatever our thoughts were at the beginning of March, it was clear by mid-May there was no way either of us could bear the thought of moving back into that tiny, tiny house on wheels.

As of now, we have rented a two bedroom apartment. It has been 39 months since we have lived in a place bigger than 300 square feet. While still in the process of clearing out the RV we were planning on living in for years, at a minimum, all I feel is relief. 

I never thought we would fail at whole fulltime RVing lifestyle.

But fail we did.

In a spectacularly explosive, fireworks type of a way. 

So now, as we work on what shape the future takes, I know that there will will be adventures to write about and worlds to explore. Right now, while I figure out exactly what direction those adventures will take us, I will enjoy sitting here writing in a chair. Not on a bed, because there was no other place, and appreciating the solid floor beneath my feet.