The road has become an honest, trustworthy teacher. Twenty minutes of driving tells me more about this motorhome than a day of sitting stationary ever can. The following words are pieced together as a story about learning to navigate uncertainty without losing your curiosity, your compassion and empathy, nor your sense of purpose.

The road chose our departure date for us. Clove and I had been holding steadfast for the time necessary to prepare the road leap. Our extractive and exhaustive move was still settling in our bones… and then, the settling asked us to change each aspect of our planet coordinates again, in one week.

While the past three weeks have been an unexpected switchback along the trail, my road shoes were on and my heart intact. Then, the place where the motorhome had been parked unexpectedly became unavailable, and Clove and I suddenly found ourselves with seven days to gather ourselves, change our plans, and head out on the road much, much sooner than either of us had imagined.

To be raw and bloody honest, it felt like the ground disappeared beneath our feet and the rug snapped viciously out from under. There was shame, avoidance, miscommunication, missed opportunities, and ultimate acceptance. The plan had been to find some solid income in order to breach much closer to making the motorhome safe and dependable before beginning this next leg of the tour. The road had other ideas. Of course!

The Road Does Not Wait

Those seven days became one long sprint of packing, planning, continuing the search for work, and making difficult decisions. All the while, working day and night to stay one step ahead while carrying the precious weight of uncertainty. Before I was able to breathe it, we were living the very thing I had been working so hard to prepare for. Ready or not, the journey had begun.

Finding Our Rhythm

We have now been on the road for about two weeks and it has not been easy to assimilate. There have been moments that were incredibly uncomfortable, moments that resonated uncertainty from the core of the earth, and most recently the moments of quick decisions from unsafe situations. I can not give up now, each morning brings another opportunity to keep free of the cobwebs working so hard to encircle my situation.

I have been witness to my resilience and it does not arrive all at once. It keeps showing up in the small corners of decisions. A choice, most times, to just make a meal and take that moment to rest before giving worry to the tomorrow. Those breaths ease my nervous system before solving the next problem which are, without a doubt, about to show up. Clove is not a road warrior yet, she still needs a quiet place to curl up and we both spend an enormous amount of time to find a safe place to park each night.

I do believe that carving space for restful moments before tackling the next obstacle is bearing the fruits of a clear head. The clarity is not a luxury. It is the very thing that gives way to growing my road legs.

Small Victories Matter

The motorhome is proving itself in so many ways and reminding me where it can use a big hug in others. The good news is that it runs. It does not purr like a kitty, yet. It can not climb mountains, yet. The challenging news is that it overheats after about twenty minutes of driving, the brakes are sticking, there is a whirring sound with huge play in the steering column, and is due for a full tuneup. A whole lotta love before any longer trips become realistic. Those repairs have become our next major priority. The road less traveled has a way of revealing what no inspection will ever be able to.

Kindness Finds You

One of the most spectacular parts of these past weeks has been discovering how kindness and strength continue to appear exactly when desperation hits and very much needed. A dear friend stepped in with support that helped carry us through the very first, difficult stretch. A small and mighty work opportunity came through at just the right moment. Those moments reminded me that even when plans fall apart, community has a remarkable way of showing up. I will not ever take that for granted and hope it becomes reciprocal for the rest of my days. I know who I am and my closest friends know exactly who I am. There will always be the scared looks of uncertainty from some and it is not my job to convince, only to be exactly the honest and trustworthy companion possible.

Looking Ahead

If this journey has carved in me anything so far, it is that flexibility may become one of the most valuable tools in my carry bag. The roadmap has changed and probably will continue to do so. The timeline has changed and is asking me to leave open those possibilities indefinitely. Even the destination sometimes feels more askew than I had imagined it to be. The purpose has not changed and the work continues. The motorhome is still asking for my attention, right now. The Listening Atlas is awaiting to be built like firewood set next to a pit. And, probably most importantly, Clove and I are moving forward, one step, one mile, one repair, and one day at a time.

Thank You

Thank you to everyone who has continued to follow along, donate, share updates, shop with Under The Root, and encourage us through every step of this unexpected switchback in the road. While this was not the chapter I had expected to write, maybe that is exactly the yarn that was needed on this weave of a journey. The road did not ask permission if we were ready. It plopped us down and pointed us in a direction to map out, and that is what we are plugging away to do.

From My Field Notes

(an additional segment with writings and stories from the road)

DEAR GRANDMA

The monsters surrounded every corner,
deals were made,
horns in a cacophone,
generators unyielding,
people yelling and pissing on the ground,
doors slamming with rebound.

My triggers lighting up like a house on fire,
i lay frozen, without fight nor flight,
solid as a stone under the covers,
weaving spells along every nook and cranny,
windows, walls, and cries for,
help from Granny.

At the break of light, slithered into the seat out of sight,
pretending to mean that all along,
thick white plumes out the pipes,
proceeded to roll along.

Bind these windows and doors and walls,
Keep away what does not belong,
Draw in what is to sail along.