We fumbled the hitch into place and clamped it down. We plugged in the electric brakes and tested the connection. We took one last long look at the farmhouse and the view down to the river and we listened to the geese who have been congregating down at the bend where the tidal ice pops and cracks in the unseasonably warm January weather. 

I put my phone between me and the moment, used the screen and the desire to capture just a slice of the early afternoon sun and this moment of departure to create a tiny shield so that I wouldn’t have to look it all straight in the eye, something entirely out of character for me. I hit record as Justin put the truck in gear and began to roll forward, pulling our camper from its resting place and into the long driveway. As I hit stop and ran for the passenger side of the truck, I snuck one last look back before resolutely turning my gaze to the road before us and willfully ignoring the lump in my throat and the rock in my stomach.

Change is hard. Even when we know it’s exactly what we want to do and exactly where we should be in this moment, it’s difficult to let go, to release. Or perhaps that’s just me? I do have a tendency to hang on too tight. Even while I’m so very thrilled to be underway, so very eager to begin, I’m confronted by my own resistance to this choice we’ve made, this pain of departure.

I’ve been thinking so much lately about what I want to get out of this whole mess we’ve made for ourselves. And also what I want to give, how I can contribute something meaningful through this slightly odd life choice of ours. I don’t know the answers yet, and I suspect they will be ever evolving anyway, but I know that tucked in between the tremors of fear and the wild exhilaration and the creeping exhaustion of being an introverted homebody without a “home” per se, truth is at the heart of it all. I want to see myself and what I have to offer this world more honestly than I’ve ever seen them before. I want to question everything I think I know for sure and see if old truths stand up when examined carefully under the microscope of time and experience. I want to see clearly and notice when I’m allowing old baggage and old stories to shape my views. I want to find exactly the right words and craft them into sentences that create connection and understanding, that open me to honesty through and through. And I’m looking for more. More moments, more breakthroughs, more growth, more awareness, more truth. More everything

Large departures and small, external departures and internal...each carries with it a lesson and an opportunity to embrace the pain and ecstasy of growth.


A little snapshot of our travels since leaving Maine two weeks ago today! I hope to be back to my regular Wednesday posts next week, but no guarantees- things on the road are a bit unpredictable and wifi simply isn't generally my top priority!