In three weeks I will be hitting the road in Van Go. Each morning I wake, tossing and turning with a list of to dos – make sure you have the right sized containers, call the mechanic, check the windshield wipers, get an ax, go over all of the mechanics of the van, check on how to put oil in, get extra oil, send the birthday card, take the dogs for a walk, don’t forget maps and dry ice.
You know how it is.
The logistics of getting ready are clogging my brain cells and on occasion, in a moment of downtime I consider what one of my students said to me, as she spent three months in a VW Van, solo, after her kids were grown.
She said, “It will change you.”
Of course I don’t know how it will change me. But I know it will.
The whole trip is about inviting in change. Owning those parts of myself that are not so well developed and leaning into becoming the woman who wears a red bandana on her head, who totes an ax, who calculates miles and gas consumption and read maps like its second nature.
She is the adventurer, unafraid of the unknown, the sounds of moose stepping through the woods, the hoot of the night owls, the roar of the bear just yards away.
But right now I have little time to contemplate these things. I’m racing to the finish line of logistical prep, stepping towards the discomfort of these lessons to come.