4/25 Journal

Living the adventurous life I've always dreamt of

I plan to live in a van this summer. It is something I’ve always wanted to do, but never made the time for.

I’ve always been after that adventurous sort of life, but have never managed to grab hold of it. Certainly, because I did not try hard enough, but mostly because I was too scared.

I feel like I haven’t lived life as I could have. And I want to change that. No more will I stay back and play it safe. We have one life to live, and money does not pass on with us. 

My big wonder now is, what do I do while I’m in the van? How will I spend my days? I want to stay around Charleston for some time, but I also want to travel—and outside of the country when I can. Right now, I aspire most to Hawaii (I know—it’s not outside of the country) and Costa Rica. 

Oh man, those would be nice. Should I just book a one way to Hawaii this summer and see what happens? Or should I spend all my money on a downpayment and attach myself to a car? I do not know. 

Now that I think about it, it might be more freeing to invest in a durable backpack and suitcase and see where life takes me. 

Either way, I’m just ready to switch it up. Even though I love Charleston and its routine, I’m growing tired of some of its traditions. I want to try new food; I’m cool with no more parking tickets; I won’t miss the Greek-lifers, nor the urban jungle, nor the Friday nights spent at bars instead of campfires. 

Even though I’ve done some “adventurous” things in my time, it still feels like I haven’t done anything crazy . . . And I think that’s because I’ve always had my own bed to return to. Hardly ever have I woken up not knowing where I might end my day.

America seems to have eradicated any sense of adventure completely. Everything has been made corporate. There is no more personality on the road—only branding. 

I want to meet people who are connected to things. I want to eat food cultivated from the land nearby. 

If we were all honest, wouldn’t this sort of life be what we’re all after? Maybe not a life on the road, but a life where we wake up to the rising sun, immersed in whatever natural scene we most prefer, amongst the people we most love, and do something during the day in the nature that surrounds us? I mean, what sort of day would be better than that? 

It is this sort of life that I’ve always been after. I just don’t understand why anyone would prefer to wake up and go be inside of a building for 8 hours every day. It’s no wonder we’re sick.

It is partly hypocritical of me to say because I do, in fact, spend quite a bit of time inside. And I understand that everyone needs a way to make money and have health insurance and whatnot, but don’t they see there are other ways to generate this income? Don’t they see that the only reason they think they need to get a job so soon is because they think they must rent a property or own a house while paying for a car and all their other materials?

Why have we forgotten that we don’t need much more than some food, water, and toilet paper to live a good life? 

Can’t we see that the $100 shirt doesn’t increase the quality of our life more than the time sacrificed making the money to acquire it? And that anyone attracted by the glam we so sparkle our life with rather than by what lies under the surface is not worth having around?

If I’m wrong about this, I will find out this summer. But I suspect I’m right. 

What is it that makes a life so adventurous, though? Why is it adventure that I’m after? What about it is so much more desirable than doing the same thing over and over and over? What do I feel like I haven’t done that I want to do?

Well, ideally, I’d wake up in a cabin with my friends, real early, nestled in some forest near a lake or the ocean, and go watch the sunrise while taking a cool, early-morning dip in the water. Then, we’d return home to cook some breakfast and brew some coffee, after which we’d all thrust ourselves into creative work for several hours. Upon the diminishing of our focus, we’d shut our books and laptops and get ready to embark on our daily food-finding adventure, which would last until several hours before sunset, at which point we’d return to prepare dinner and dive deeply into the most loving sort of conversation. Then we’d sit there, around the dying campfire, looking at the stars, until the bugs became too bothersome and prompted us back into our cabin for another highly-sought night’s rest, though eager for the sun to rise again.

If we could all do something like that at least once a week, I don’t think the world would be so bad. 

I wish I could write more, but that’s about all I have time for today.