We aren’t dirty hippies. Contrary to our recent decisions, both of us enjoy the warm comfort of showers and detest the smell of patchouli. Neither of us have ever considered dreading our hair and while we chose a slightly questionable name for our son, we did not name him Sagebrush Whisper. No offense to all the patchouli smelling sagebrush’s out there, I’m sure you’re awesome. With all of that out of the way, how do two people come to the conclusion that purchasing a 1997 flat-nosed school bus for the purposes of converting it to full-time home is a good idea? In order to fully understand this answer, we have to dig pretty deep.
I have struggled my entire adulthood with the concept of stationary. My need for movement probably stems from my mothers inability to sit down for five seconds, but there’s no need to dissect that. Never have I idealized the typical American dream: modest 1500 sq ft house in the suburbs, nine-to-five, two children, two cars, house full of gadgets I bought on credit and week long vacation to Hawaii every year. Our society has does a superb job of confining us to this one size fits most ideal. I’ll resist the temptation to dive deep into the patriarchal rabbit hole and stay on point. While a significant part of me can empathize with those desires, another part of me refuses to prescribe to it. For years, I have watched others resist the status quo and create their own paths. As I pined over their luster and tenacity, I remained in the audience, convinced they had access to some resource I didn’t, some sort of magical zero-fucks-given dust that was forever out of stock. It is so easy to set the cruise control. Before I get any further, let me acknowledge all of the incredible fortunes I’m surrounded by. My husband is an ever-evolving human; open, compassionate and best of all, skilled and trusted partner in the mountains. Cas, our four year old posses the perfect combination of fearlessness and caution. His athletic abilities amaze us and scare us all at once. Most of all, Cas’s curiosity inspires us on the daily. All around me there are truly amazing people and opportunities. I have everything I need and more. So here I am living in the land of unicorns and cotton candy flavored clouds, how could I possibly ask for more? Here’s the thing, it’s not more I am after, it’s less. We want less.We need less.
At what point did we resign to “good enough?” That answer is simple; the moment it became easy. This has less to do with apathy and everything to do with believing in the “reasonable” parameters that were laid out before me. For everyone. My road-map looks different than yours. When I first asked this question years ago, the cause was your typical and sad life disruption; ___________(insert really sad hardship). One of these day’s I’ll talk all about it; give you an opportunity to cleanse your tear ducts. Those hardships have a miraculous way of forcing you to analyze your life and ask big questions like: what the fuck am I doing here? What’s the point? What really matters? How do those giant military planes stay in the sky (they are humongous and weigh a million pounds and made out of tin foil, c’mon)? It’s easy not to take those questions too seriously because the daily grind is incessant and was designed to herd you forward with minimal interruption. It’s when you do take it seriously and begin the process of figuring it out that things start to get interesting. “Good enough” doesn’t make the cut anymore. Suddenly, no part of me wants to comply with what’s practical or seemingly reasonable. Instead, I want to tear shit up! Time to de-clutter and cut the fat. I love butter, so that’ll be on the bus for sure. Here’s the checklist:
- Give away, sell, recycle 85% of my belongings
- Make a school bus reliable, practical, cozy and simple
- Embrace adventure and live intentionally
Seems totally legit, right?
Hopefully, among all of the touchy-feely, you might have been able to pull out the answer to the original question; why did we buy a bus? In short, shit got sad, brains and thinking happened, only one life to live inspirational poster blah blah blah, buy a bus, live in said bus all the time, become professional dirtbags. The end.