I decided to leave everything behind and RV full-time because of a couch.Â
Iâd lost interest in buying a couch, or a chair, or lamp or any furniture for our nearly empty house of two-years. We were about to make this furniture purchase when Bryce said, âYâknow we should just quit our jobs and travel for a while.â One of us often threatened this so there was no reason to take him seriously. Plus, Bryce is the most loyal, dependable employee and stable person I know; he doesnât just quit jobs to go traipsing around the world.
As the gypsy of this duo, Iâm the one who had talked this up since the 2009 financial collapse, but now, in my prime working years, quitting my job and traveling was preposterous! But looking at all those farmhouse inspired, pale-yellow, burlap pillow thingies just felt really meaningless. Buying furniture felt heavy, burdensome and permanent. We already had a garage full of stuff, crappy stuff, wall to wall, near hoarding proportions that felt like a prison. We had entered a phase of life that wasnât much fun and the âdilemmaâ of buying furniture unlocked something in us. So I was like, âYeah letâs do this!â
My free-spirit wings hang a little limp.Â
Ok so it wasnât just about the furniture. It doesnât take much to light a fire under me because I was born with free-spirited wings. My family members on all sides are artists, musicians, and entertainers. My mom, dad and aunts hail from Haight-Ashbury in San Francisco which formed their creative paths. But my Depression Era, career Air Force grandparents had a different blueprint: go to school, get a job, get settled.
These varied influences always put my pragmatic side at odds with my other interests. For example, after college, I backpacked for six months through New Zealand and Australia with a loose plan of âfind work.â I waitressed, taught English and made sheep whistles, bought and sold a car for $500 (with a friend I met there), and often called a tent âmy home.â It was a very creative time, but eventually I panicked and quickly thereafter spent the next twenty-something years getting settled. My grandparents would be proud of where I am today, as am I, but my free-spirit wings always hang a little limp.
In 2014 the weight on my wings got even heavier. While the highlight of that year was getting married, in the middle of planning, we were forced into a move because our landlord put the house on the market. We had six weeks to clear out. We decided to buy instead of rent because this moving around business was getting old.
Finding and buying a house, closing on a loan and moving in six weeks is insane, but we pulled it off and loved itâĻfor about a month. Then a slab leak wiped out the first floor. Everything including the walls up to three feet had to be gutted, so we packed it all up, and moved to a hotel with a kitten and sick old cat.
Then there was the âBack Spasmâ incident.
While living in the hotel, Bryce experienced a back spasm (as he called it), which he said was normal. I had never seen him like that in the five years we were together. In fact, I had never seen anyone in that amount of pain who hadnât been in an accident. He screamed every time he moved, so by day four of watching him suffer, I said, you have got to to the hospital. Unfortunately he had to take a leave of absence, something heâd never done in his entire career.
Itâs a romantic picture isnât it? Newlyweds, living in a hotel, two cats, the sick one decided that a litter box was optional, and a spouse whoâs laid up in pain. We were also both in demanding new roles at work, and Bryce in particular, worked crazy-long, literally back-breaking hours. While I really liked my job, as a workaholic, I was depleted and got hit with cold, after flu, after sinus infection, after bronchitis. One after the other for the better part of a year. By January 2015, we pulled ourselves together and moved back home, Bryce went back to work and the renovations continued. But then Bryce had a back relapse that required another leave of absence.
Health issues, garage full of crap, incomplete renovations, another sinus infection, and then Punky (my beloved seventeen year old, litter-box optional, sick cat) died, and I was like, seriously this isnât fun anymore.
Itâs a country song right? Iâm not sharing this for sympathy. Iâm aware that much of this is first-world problem stuff, and compared to things like the Syrian refuge crisis, itâs small potatoes. But stress is relative, and our bodies told us we were stressed, we just werenât listening. We kept being dependable people, throwing ourselves at jobs and responsibilities, until we had to buy furniture. For some reason that was the last straw. Ironically we were past the chaos phase and it was time to finally get settled. Only it wasnât that appealing anymore. We wanted to cut loose and live a little, because health issues put living in perspective. So instead of buying furniture we built a plan to renovate our lives.
It was time to take a flying leap.
I met with a senior executive to tell her I was leaving work. She locked eyes with me and asked âare you running from something or to something?â It was like a truth bullet ripped through my soul and I didnât know the answer. Then I thought about this fable my dad used to to tell me:
A monkey in a tree is holding onto these old, moldy peanuts. In a nearby tree he spots fresh, new peanuts that look really appealing. He faces a dilemma; either he holds onto the old peanuts or swings to the tree to get the new peanuts. To be successful, heâll need to let go of the old ones so he can grab the branch along with the new peanuts. As he prepares to leap, he pulls back because for a brief period of time, he would have no peanuts, which is too scary.
The pursuit of possibility is simultaneously
exhilarating and terrifying.
My âold peanutsâ was trying to live a settled life that often felt unsettled no matter what I tried, and something was telling me to go explore. Bryce had his version of old peanuts too. But we didnât want to stick just any kind of peanuts in our pockets, so after exploring many ideas, we decided that full-time RVing through North America felt like the right risk (even though weâd never been in an RV). Our inner-monkeys decided to swing without knowing if there would be any new peanuts or not. We just leaped. The possibilities are exciting but also scary.
We hit the open road while also leaving an enjoyable workplace, friends and family, and many conveniences. I constantly question, âwas it worth it to give up those safe, comfortable peanuts?â I donât know, but Iâm willing to swing for other trees and find out.
Love it. You guys are so awesome, and funny and smart. Thanks for the entertaining read. I’m so glad you’re out there and on the creative road again. I CAN’T WAIT to join you guys… but life is good, now.
Thanks Sarah-glad you found it entertaining. Looking back, we can laugh about it now too. We look forward to meeting up with you again on the road, and meeting Buttercup!
We didn’t know what to expect when hitting the road either. It definitely just took taking a leap to get started. We figured it was probably now or never.
Totally agree with that–now or never, because time isn’t guaranteed. I hope to cross paths with you guys!
Hey Cam,
That’s a really fun read.
I’m sending lots of fresh (and extraodinary) peanuts your way!
Thanks Pops. And here I was just hoping for fresh peanuts of any kind–but I should really wish for extraordinary peanuts!
“So instead of buying furniture we built a plan to renovate our lives.” This is my favorite quote of yours. Thank you for sharing your story – you inspire me daily!
Ahh thanks Jill! I’m glad I inspire you. The feeling is mutual my friend đ
After a life time of letting go of moldy peanuts and swinging to the next tree I can tell you, that although it can be somewhat unnerving it is generally always the best option. Kudos to you guys!
Thanks Marc! It’s one giant peanut experiment at this point đ
Beautifully written Camille. Your Pop is a wise man. Continued success to you and Bryce and continued adventures with your Wheelin! Isn’t it amazing how the dominos fall in our lives.
Thanks Ann! I appreciate your continued support of our journey. My Pops is indeed a wise man. He’s pretty funny too đ
It would be a better metaphor without the peanuts. Peanuts grow in the ground. Monkeys live in the trees. Peanuts grow in the American south. Not so much monkeys. Other than than that, it’s a good story.
Hey Allison-that’s funny! I used to change the story to say bananas. But my dad used to tell it to me with nuts. Maybe he said tree nuts and I remember it differently because I was a kid. I decided to leave it intact since it’s how I recalled it. Thanks for reading it and providing your perspective.
It needs alot of a courage to shift from the comfort of home to full time RVing, but I really appreciate your passion for traveling and gaining new experiences. I believe that being on the road gives us an opportunity to experience different cultures, to meet new people and to learn empathy to others.