"What begins?" you ask.
"Valid question," I reply. I suppose it could be construed as my great personal upheaval - as if getting divorced wasn't a great enough upheaval - but I digress. This upheaval is my conscious and meditated decision to become homeless and nomadic. It's been a route to get to this point, but now that I am here, I'm kind of itching to get things moving.
Over the last several years, I've been thinking on and off (usually while on a trail) about what to do when I am ready to retire. There were options to stay here, move to another place, get another job, really, I had no practical limit to the options available - except my imagination. In typical boring-me fashion, I figured I'd buy a place locally, hang out and do what I've been doing, except less going to the office. My son, on a road trip in 2019, put the bee in my bonnet (I look cute in a bonnet!) by asking "Why stay there?"
It hit me, why indeed? As I mentioned to my tens of readers (optimistic of me, I know) in Sept. 2020, why stay where ghosts of the past, and ghosts of what will never be haunt me. Every. Day. There was nothing to keep me from moving on and starting fresh. Things have progressed. I have begun the process of divestment of "stuff." I'm slowly unloading anything that I own that isn't used regularly. The latest victim was the stereo. Gone. The process will accelerate until mid September, at which time I plan to have nothing but a bed, a TV and maybe a couch - all of which will be either given away or, less optimally, landfill-fill.
I've also firmed up The Plan. Whatever fits in the Volvo gets a ride to my brother's place in Spokane for storage. Then it's a 1-month road trip to get to Denver, because the first of the one-way tickets has been booked: Denver to New York City on November 1. Why NYC? I'm going to visit my she-cub at NYU for a few days. I don't yet know where I'll head from there, but I think I can catch a flight to somewhere interesting. I'll figure that part out over the next several months. I've been thinking Canary Islands, or Cape Town. Any other suggestions?
"Valid question," I reply. I suppose it could be construed as my great personal upheaval - as if getting divorced wasn't a great enough upheaval - but I digress. This upheaval is my conscious and meditated decision to become homeless and nomadic. It's been a route to get to this point, but now that I am here, I'm kind of itching to get things moving.
Over the last several years, I've been thinking on and off (usually while on a trail) about what to do when I am ready to retire. There were options to stay here, move to another place, get another job, really, I had no practical limit to the options available - except my imagination. In typical boring-me fashion, I figured I'd buy a place locally, hang out and do what I've been doing, except less going to the office. My son, on a road trip in 2019, put the bee in my bonnet (I look cute in a bonnet!) by asking "Why stay there?"
It hit me, why indeed? As I mentioned to my tens of readers (optimistic of me, I know) in Sept. 2020, why stay where ghosts of the past, and ghosts of what will never be haunt me. Every. Day. There was nothing to keep me from moving on and starting fresh. Things have progressed. I have begun the process of divestment of "stuff." I'm slowly unloading anything that I own that isn't used regularly. The latest victim was the stereo. Gone. The process will accelerate until mid September, at which time I plan to have nothing but a bed, a TV and maybe a couch - all of which will be either given away or, less optimally, landfill-fill.
I've also firmed up The Plan. Whatever fits in the Volvo gets a ride to my brother's place in Spokane for storage. Then it's a 1-month road trip to get to Denver, because the first of the one-way tickets has been booked: Denver to New York City on November 1. Why NYC? I'm going to visit my she-cub at NYU for a few days. I don't yet know where I'll head from there, but I think I can catch a flight to somewhere interesting. I'll figure that part out over the next several months. I've been thinking Canary Islands, or Cape Town. Any other suggestions?
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