It’s 9 a.m. and I’m just now sitting down to work. The 3 hours since the dog and I got up were filled with coffee, journaling, meditation, a loooong hike, and — in a complete turnaround — conversations with my fellow campers.
After feeling lonely and cranky yesterday, my first full day at the camp, I had worked hard to turn my thinking around, to think about what people might be proud of, and complimenting people on their rigs. It appears my strategy to be more positive and friendlier was successful. Even before I got out of bed, I heard some big rigs taking off before 6 a.m., and I thought they must be proud of that.
As the dog and I were getting back from our hike, hungry for breakfast, two women who were camping nearby stopped to pet the dog. But they really wanted to know all about the T@B. They are both teachers from Wisconsin and one is near retirement and is looking to live in a 5th Wheel in Idyllwild, California, and travel in something like the T@B. I walked her down the path to point out another small trailer called an Alto that she might check out. But she is smitten with T@Bs. She kept repeating that I was inspiring her.
After talking with these two women, giving the customary “safe travels” parting we offer on the road, I found that another couple had been kind of waiting in line to talk with me about the T@B. They are traveling in a VW Vanagon from California to Chicago and back, and were wondering about getting a tiny trailer. I love to invite people to enter the T@B in and have the whole cozy experience. They also wanted to know about the ARB refrigerator. They have been using an ice chest and are shocked at how often they need to buy ice. Buying ice is one of my pet peeves, so I was glad to share my AC/DC solution.
The woman also mentioned the eye-opening value of traveling, especially along Route 66. She lives in an upscale community and had not seen so much poverty and spiritual despair. She saw people living such unhealthy lives, with squalor and trash-filled yards. How could people not keep their own yards clean? I said it felt like profound depression. She said it was hard to see and not be able to fix. We all need to see this. I’m not sure if we can fix it, but society as a whole needs to know of the desperation, and find ways to create a more just and equitable society. Desperate people do desperate things. It felt good to talk of real things, and not just pleasantries. I didn’t realize that would be possible in these pop-up encounters on the road.
Finally the girl and I got our breakfast. All that talking and socializing both got me hungry and filled me up. One secret to socializing is having an ice breaker. The T@B and the dog are both ice breakers. And my new resolve to compliment people on their rigs or camping gear is another ice breaker.
I actually had seen the couple in the VW van yesterday when they pulled in to camp right next door. I had just glanced at them and decided I didn’t like them, that they were arrogant and self-important. That’s when I was in my negative mindset. When the couple stopped me to talk about the T@B, I didn’t realize at first they were the couple in the van. How kind they were, how gracious and thoughtful, and what great company for me during our time together.
I heard once that traveling full time “takes you down to the bone.” For me, I guess that means coming face to face with my mind and habits and negativity and fears, as well as my assets and strengths and victories. The days traveling do not stretch out into an endless sea of same old, same old. Each day is filled with change and challenges that I must meet. I can’t go home and hide. This is my home. This is my time.
OK. Time to produce income. Thanks for stopping by. Oh, and by the way, nice rig ya got there.