Here we go again!
For the next 11 days, Bevy is converting from a daily driver to my full-time living quarters again. I am loathe to leave this cozy little house in the mountains, but I have unfinished business back east. Namely, all of the things I left behind in April 2022 when I moved into the van full time.
For most people, moving into a vehicle helps them take stock of what matters. Getting outside, living in the moment, a sense of adventure, and the open road before you. For some, physical things become less important. When people live in a van for years, they tend to downsize rather than hold things in storage. Some people move into a van to move into minimalism.
You can fit a fair amount of things in a van. Exactly how much depends on your layout and cache of goods, but you can certainly have enough to live comfortably. But I still left a lot behind in my basement, tucked away until I had space for it again. Part of me wondered if I would simply forget about it or not care at all by the time I was done.
This was not so. I, like the magpies and ravens in my yard, covet shiny things. I like my artwork in a frame, hung on my wall, reflecting sunlight onto the floor. I like my array of options when I open my dresser drawer or my closet. I like candles and eucalyptus plants and knick-knacks.
Actually, I miss my things.
Say what you will about the impracticality of holding things near and dear to your heart – I love the feeling of walking in my home, cozy and well-decorated, everything in its place. I love a home that is lived in, cleaned, cared for, and adorned with sentimentals. I miss my photos, my paintings, and my crockpot. I miss my microspike and winter pants – the snow-capped mountains are calling to me. I miss my ski boots and my helment and my layers of winter jacket for shedding on the slopes.
This drive looms before me, immense and unending. Miles upon miles of black-topped road and freezing nights in parking lots. Local highs have been in the 30s for the past week, and Colorado has gotten even more snow than we have. The van is not made for winter travel. But I comfort myself with the thought of all I will be able to do once I have it again – my stuff.
he books on my bookshelf – old ones to enjoy again and new ones, picked up for just $1 at the local bookstore. I will have more yoga pants for yoga class and teaspoons for cooking with. More sets of sheets and blankets to snuggled under, more pillows to pile and plants to care for.
Moving into a furnished rental made the transition from the van a lot easier – no cavernously empty rooms, the looming cost of filling it. But it also made it feel a little less like home and a little more like a rental. I am enthused once again by the prospect of unpacking my stuff – even if I am daunted by the journey to get it.
This time next week I will be back east again with people I know and love. And that makes the drive utterly worth it.
