Living in a van means experiencing beautiful moments and meeting some of the planet's most wonderful people. That's true. Living in a van is not without adversity - for me, new places are weird. When you get to an unfamiliar location, you do not have a routine established. You need to learn new streets, and the locations of resources. It can be easy to feel aloof and alone. It is a natural instinct to want to keep moving. These days, I am ignoring that reflex.
In the past, I have often left good locations prematurely instead of giving anxiety an opportunity to settle. I am trying this time to become familiar with new places. Thus, when I return in the future, I will already feel at ease. I am developing what I hope is a repeatable nomadic loop. I am connecting locations with sunshine, music, and beauty.
Having only arrived in Austin a moment ago, I can feel the rise of trepidation about the unknown. But with Austin, I have some help. I am parked in the backyard of known good people. I met Walking Onion through emails nine years ago. I was a confused 20-something in a van in Key West. I was being honest about my insecurities while Typing Right Here. I exchanged emails with this man, who I knew I must meet, and his words provided validation and put me at ease.
Today I met Heather who arrived by bicycle; specifically an MB-6. The more that we spoke, the more we found in common. She was at George's Holler to build a ladder. She is living in a tiny house nearby, and does not have a ladder, and George has offered to help. They cut two-by-fours with a chop saw until the sun was setting. George explained how to use each tool, and helped with every step. After darkness had fallen, I helped hold a flashlight, as Heather traced the edges of the ladder with a router. The construction was simple, but the resulting ladder had character. It was narrow, and the router was a nice finishing touch.
I helped carry the new ladder to the house where Heather is staying. It gave us a chance to notice more about how we think alike.