If there’s one thing I’ve actually, finally learned in my 5+ decades of life it’s that big changes of any kind very often take longer than we’d like.
After we told everyone our plan to live in an RV and go wherever, people constantly asked when we were going to leave. It was a source of frustration for nearly two years, because we couldn’t figure out how to connect the dots and make it happen.
Then one day, BOOM – it all came together and we were free of our house and everything in it within about two months.
There’s more to it than that, of course. One doesn’t simply downsize 20-30 years of stuff and offload a house overnight.
Rest assured there’ll be a post about it next month, as soon as we wrap up our two biggest
time sucks commitments. I pretty much owe it to the would-be downsizers of the world.
So many people agonize over downsizing because they don’t know any other way. I did, too, until we stumbled on two tactics that helped us break free – one or both of which may work for you.
Working title: “How to downsize your crap without losing your shit.”
What do you think?
Now departing the comfort zone
We moved into the RV in mid-May of this year, initially staying in RV parks within about 20 miles of Brian’s shop. These parks were OK for temporary parking, but that’s about it.
One park was a glorified parking lot (it had been an actual trailer park). The other had no sewer hookups, so Brian had to cart our sewage to the dump station. Both parks were somewhat run down.
When we saw an open spot to host at a state park near Brian’s shop, we were on it like plastic surgeons on a Kardashian.
Since the park isn’t an RV campground, though, the hosting duties are a little different from most places one might workamp. During the week it’s fairly light. Weekends have been full and, during Georgia’s sweltering summers, completely sucked
ass the life out of us.
Still, we think our camphosting duties have been a fair exchange for the privilege of living among trees (not asphalt) and being entertained by deer, wild turkeys and sad-eyed Greyhounds longing to get up close and personal with the aforementioned wildlife.
In less than two weeks, this phase of our RV journey will end.
The shop Brian has operated for the last nine years will close.
We’ll head west on I-20, away from the place we called home for years. Over a decade for Brian. Nearly 3x that for me.
I’ll miss family and friends, but doubt I’ll miss anything else about being here.
Sure, we ditched the house. And yes, I’ve been working from the RV since May, running A Fearless Venture (my WordPress fix-it shop). But when it comes to being digital nomads or nomadic entrepreneurs, we’re still very much in transition. There’s more to figure out.
What we do know is that Brian will join me as a partner in the business. Together we’ll decide where we’re going to take it.
Even when we’ve got a plan, though, our lives will always be in somewhat of a state of flux and subject to change.
That’s kind of the point of living on wheels, right?
Curious? There’s more
My friend Vivian Carrasco invited me to her Turning Inward podcast to talk about the transition from suburbia to nomadia.
Honestly, I was nervous about doing a podcast. But Vivian made it a fun and thought-provoking experience.
If you’ve wondered about the journey but have been too polite to ask prying questions, listen in here. Vivian and I talk about bucking the status quo, the timeline for this transition, and how to find like-minded community for your journey, wherever you’re headed.