How it all works

travel, kids, and living life in one room.

I remember last year when we went on our first RV trip; I had someone ask me to make an RV video to show how it all works. Thankfully, I will not be one of those people who show you my perfectly white, tan, and black up-cycled RV, how I turned napkins into curtains, how I organize things perfectly, or make campfire meals which my children happily gobble up. None of this is Perfect.

This is one of my bookshelves.

This is my couch / bed / dog’s favorite place to bark at passerby place/and where the girls sometimes brush each other’s hair or do scratch art. It’s all the places in one.

This is my “stuffing place” — I have one of these wherever I live. It’s where I stuff my stuff. I’m reading My Heart is a Whale right now, amidst many other books (it’s such a bad habit!) by Serra Sewitch-Posey (best name ever) and it is so intimate and true it’s killing me. She also has a Substack which is incredible called The Raccoon. But as always, I digress.

How it works is a bit of a mystery. Miraculously there is breathing room in here. Which doesn’t make sense logically because there is very little ACTUAL physical room. We literally bump up against each other. I went on a submarine tour once in Bremerton WA as a kid. You had to turn chest to chest to walk down the hallways, or step into a doorway, to let someone by…It’s like that. You’re always two-stepping with someone to get into the fridge or grab a spoon but somehow perhaps because we’re social animals the circumference of our family’s living space circle getting smaller makes the other things feel larger…like when you’re dancing with someone. You hold them close but you move around with gusto, you find your rhythm together…you have to. It’s either that or step on each other’s toes all day. 

You can’t ignore things. Not for very long. If you’re upset or bothered you have to take care of yourself and each other right away. There is an immediacy and clarity about things. There’s no hiding. And there’s no room for letting things slide because as mentioned there is very little room. Which can be refreshing and exhausting. 

In his book, Care of the Soul, Thomas More says something about the shape we carve out, the shape of our life, the shape we make for our soul. I wanted to quote it here but I’m reading it on Hoopla and the worst part about digital books is I can’t find my underlined parts..because I can’t actually underline them! Basically he shares there’s a shape we choose to make for our souls and sometimes that shape fits and sometimes it doesn’t. Our work is to find what fits. Not that it will then be fixed but that when the shape is right, then it the soul can grow.

Last summer, we travelled in the Pacific Northwest in our RV for a few months. One of my favorite parts of the journey was when we were up in the San Juan Islands. These Islands are my heart home. I love them so much. We visited the historical museum on Orcas Island and I found myself looking at a recreation of an old one room house. One someone had built there a long time ago.

And here’s the thing, whenever I see these one room houses, with their open shelves and just enough plates and the one beautiful quilt handmade on the bed, I always get jealous and I smile way deep down and think how lovely is this?!

I did the same thing in Prescott when I saw this dining room above. And I got to thinking that this RV thing is a modern version of that one room cabin. It’s room for only what you need and all of your truly favorite things. I miss nothing that was put in the storage PODS when we left. Well maybe the piano. But the rest? I don’t really recall any of it. Clothes that I love or am saving because I might eventually be that size again or maybe the girls someday want that vintage lace skirt. I don’t think so. 

So the one room house. 

Something true about the shape of that. It also makes it hard. I am writing to you from my car but ya know what? I did that anyway when I had a house. I like to write in small, quiet, closed off, very much alone places. I like cubby’s, which can be hard to find when you’re a parent. So it doesn’t matter how many walls you have, you still have to carve out your space.

And then there’s the truth that as much as I love “traveling” I don’t really love the physical traveling part. I like the landing. I like arriving. I like coming around a corner and hearing my kids yell out woooooaaaah mom look at that! Or walking down to a river seeing my daughter grinning yelling mom, this is so fun! While I also am taking note of every (possibly diseased) bird feather in the water, the level of murkiness and possibility of leaches. Side note: no leaches in lake Ogallala but they do have really big snakes (it’s never what you’re actually worried about that will get you.)

I was reading Bonnie Ware’s Newsletter this morning and she was talking about the moments that call to us and how we think we can circle back to them but most often we can’t. It’s easy, she says, to think we have forever to do a thing that calls us, to go for the dreams that distract us or to follow a curiosity that hold the potential to bring delight. We don’t. 

There are annoying bits to this too. Like surrendering to everything.

You must surrender to the fact that none of the campgrounds you reserved will be what you expected. This is so good for me, because Ugh, I love planning stuff. There is a saying in Kabbalah don’t get too excited about anything. Basically don’t hold on too tightly to anything. But also! Don’t be afraid to ask for a spot by the river if when you arrive your full hookup spot is behind the bar (that happened last night). 

The campsite that touted itself as a resort with beautiful pictures of nature on their website? It’s actually a parking lot and the pictures of nature are from the “surrounding area” not the actual campsite. You open your door up to see someone’s sewer hose when you wanted to see trees. This is how life works right?! And then other times like in Nebraska what you thought was a little state park is actually breathtaking and you can’t believe there are so many places you’ve never heard of that will take your breath away. 

Folks, there are so many places you’ve never heard of that will take your breath away.

You will always feel like you are swaying - kind of what I think boat life is like for folks. Or what parenting is like the first year. You’re always rocking the baby. You’re always moving even when you’re not. I don’t like this. I don’t like always moving so fast. I’m trying to slow down. And when my body moves through space at 70 mph something happens to my thoughts they stream behind me like some sort of astral projection in reverse just trying to hold on or catch up. I think I left part of my thinking brain in Omaha. It was staring at the lake and then we left and it’s still trying to find out where we went so fast.

The RV is loud and constantly in a state of falling apart. It’s basically a spaceship…an earth ship! I have Star Trek dialogue that play out in my head sometimes when we’re packing up…all systems are a go, all doors are secure babe! We actually say this…the doors to the fridge, the freezer, the hallways, they in fact have to be secured. But seriously, it’s ridiculously loud when driving. I am currently reading Pippi Longstocking to the girls on drive days and I am not in fact reading it, I am performing it as if in an amphitheater for the folks in the back row…projection. projection. I am constantly sucking on water while reading. luckily I went to school for this very moment. Thank you  Smith College Theatre degree. Finally I’m really using it.

On the bright side cooking and cleaning become much simpler period. You forgive yourself for not cooking something by the fireside or that it’s been a few weeks since you really cleaned anything. It will often be a quick rice, veggie, left over thing and a swift sweep of the sand out the door. And that is ok.

 You will miss your friends. But then also acknowledge that you didn’t see much of each other, even when you lived an hour away, so it’s ok.

I”m not sure what shape we’re going to be in at the end of this friends. A house? Live in the RV for a while? End up in the high desert instead of the north? What the container will look like is very much up for debate around here. Maybe more than it ever has been.

Whatever the shape it takes; we have what we need, all systems are a go, and I’m not getting too excited. Unless I see a snake. Then you will hear about it.

Here is a very small playlist, of a few of our favorite songs this past week. I hope you enjoy them.

Also, my beautiful friend Claire Wood is raising money for their documentary highlighting Cal Dobbs TRANScontinental run, who is running across America for Trans rights. If you’d like to contribute and feel good about doing something to combat all the anti-trans legislation that is being passed right now. The link is above.

Lots of love.