I love being an adjunct university professor (most of the time). Kirk is pretty happy with his gig, and we have a heady infatuation with our neighborhood of post-war ranches set in the heart of Oklahoma City. Life here has been sweet, and the past couple of years has seen us acquire all of the assets of modern life: a house in a popular historic neighborhood, two cars (one owned, one on "loan"), nice dinners out, a busy social life, and frequent trips to the neighborhood Whole Foods.
And then everything completely changed a few months ago.
It happened innocently enough one Monday afternoon as I idly scanned the Becoming Minimalist newsletter looking for a worthwhile read. A few clicks later and I stumbled upon a video called Tomorrow Somewhere New. (Warning: watching this might be dangerous to your mortgage and nice suburban life.)
When Kirk got home, he found me grinning like an idiot, beckoning toward the computer like a zombie on speed. (Hey, I was excited, what can I say?) And since that fateful video-watching several months ago, we have been drawn like moths to the light of a new, very strange lifestyle.
It must be said that I am not a particularly adventurous person. Camping has always slightly scared me, and I'm not entirely comfortable in the outdoors. But something about that video completely resonated with me. Watching it reminded me of my childhood, one filled with freedom, tramping through the creeks, woods, and fields of our country town, and watching the stars whiz by in the night-drenched sky. That Kate sought adventure and loved the outdoors. What version of myself do I want my girls to inherit? The urbanite concerned with keeping up with the Joneses or the adventurer with a heart for nature?
Time is precious and my girls get older by the minute. Let's live while we're young and choose the harder, but more rewarding path of the two.
And it is our hope that by this time next year, we will take a detour from modern social norms to live that strange lifestyle, also known as full-timing in an Airstream, traveling this great country of ours slowly, one speech-pathology rotation at a time.