Accountability - Restart

 To recap - to keep you updated - to be HERE whilst also being connected - April 4, 2023

I'm sitting at a window in a heated apartment of a friend, watching snow fall in Flagstaff, Arizona. It's peaceful. It's bright. It's likely very, very cold outside this window. Joshua Bassett sings about love and loss of family from my phone next to me.

And I have decided I am content. I hope for tomorrow. I'm ready for the day. Mostly. I haven't put on pants yet, my crumpled and disheveled sports bra hangs off my body from too many nights tucked into the back of my truck in the cold, in the heat. There's a half eaten plain bagel with garden vegetable cream cheese balancing on my right knee, a water bottle begging me to take a sip next to my left. 

I haven't decided what I'm going to do next and that makes me content. I don't Have to do anything. I don't Have to be anywhere, check in with anyone or swipe a badge in an office. I'm waiting for my friend to get back from a client. We don't have plans, no set schedule. We mused about maybe going to the local REI to get her sandals. We opted for yoga at some point later today. There is no need. No structure. We don't have to do anything. Unless we choose to. 

And that, tiny audience, is why I choose vanlife (truck life, tent life, couch-surf life - wherever the days take me). 

I GET TO CHOOSE.

I felt for most of my life that each day had a set schedule. Whether I had work, school, whichever prescheduled commitment I had put into a busy calendar. Each time I had a destination, there was no alternate route, no last-minute adjustments just because I changed my mind. Bills had to be paid, commitments made, and structure built. After my brain surgery, the bills quadrupled. The commitments became harder. The structure I had seemed so daunting. When I finally got into the hang of things, the daily bustle, the grind, I was depressed. I took a look around my little life and I did not like what stared back at me.

Sure, I had a home. I had groceries. I had electricity and a vehicle. I had everything I needed. 

But something was missing. 

Was food and shelter the only boxes I needed to check off of the list of my life? Just to exist was enough after undergoing invasive brain surgery and surviving a coma. Right? 

It wasn't.

This is my why. Waking up in a new city, an old friend, and a day of possibilities. I don't Have to do any one thing or be anywhere at a set time. I get to choose. So much of my life was out of my hands. I couldn't choose my childhood - couldn't choose to get out when I needed to. I couldn't choose my mother Not abandoning me mentally and emotionally. I couldn't choose Not to have a brain tumor. I couldn't choose Not losing everything. I could not choose. 

And I know that most of life happens when we're not planning or choosing what happens next - we're not gods. I know every day isn't always like today. I know the arguments about choosing within a life of restraints and confinements out of necessity.

But I choose Not to live like that. I choose to dive into the unknown each day, to try something or somewhere new as much as I can. I have been shit at keeping up with this blog. I'm going to do my utmost best to keep you abridged of all of my adventures, even the little ones. In doing so, I get to remind myself every day of Why I Chose This Life. 

Here is my commitment to us: I will post once a week - on Sundays. I will detail the good, the bad, the ugly and the marvelous. I will post this here, on the blog, and I will share or copy/paste onto my Facebook as long as it exists. I'll likely be active on Instagram as well, so you'll see the "auto-share" photos between these posts. In the meantime..

Here is what I ask of you: Every day, every moment you find yourself stuck or sad or just feeling like There has to be more to life than this - I want you to choose one thing to add into your week to make you feel like This is your chosen adventure. A hike, a workout, just going to a coffee shop and reading, or seeing the new big cinematic flick on your own. Just one thing to connect yourself to catching your longing. That invisible, seemingly unattainable aspect of freedom and letting go. 

With that... next week's post will come from San Diego, California. I'll see you guys there.