I was awake early and naturally, feeling rested and clear. A glance at my phone tells me it is 6:45am, but when I open the cabin door I quickly realize the mutable perception of numerical time, seeing the absence of twilight and recognizing that yesterday this would have been 5:45am. I've just left northern Arizona, where I've been "urban camping" for several days in the adventure hub town of Page. Apparently the state of Arizona is in Mountain Standard Time, but opts out of daylight savings time, and my drive yesterday had me cross an imaginary line establishing a new reference for the hour. Perhaps my anticipation is what woke me; prepped to hit the road at daybreak, I've routed us through Oljato-Monument Valley, hopeful to see the sun rising amongst the majestic and iconic red rock buttes and spires towering above this native land. Gently waking the pups and shifting us to the car, we leave the campground in the dark.
I've been on the road for almost three weeks since leaving the mega-city of Phoenix, Arizona where I stayed in the comfort of an air conditioned home with the company of a border collie named Chip. House sitting has provided a welcomed interlude of convenience and recuperation between stretches of highway and weeks in the desert. While I have occasionally rented a spot in an established campground, primarily we have been "dispersed camping" on public lands, and even "stealth camping" for short stays in friendly cities. In the western states we've been roaming, camping for free has been readily available for someone willing to look. You can find yourself miles away from any other humans, with a "million dollar view" right out of your back door!
Dry camping (without hookups for water or sewer), Wild camping (on unmaintained land), and Dispersed camping (in previously established spots with road access) are some of the variety of terms that float around to refer to the style of transient rural living colloquially called Boondocking. Stipulations vary slightly between National Forests, BLM (Bureau of Land Management), and state owned tracts, however most often it is permitted for someone to stay up to 14 days and in some cases multiple months. Campers should be prepared with all necessities and plan to pack out what they pack in. In higher traffic locations there is likely a designated area to park, and there may be a pit toilet or a port-a-john. In more remote locations there are zero services outside of perhaps a rock fire ring. You are out in the boondocks!
On this particular drive I'm feeling happy and accomplished. I've been learning to enjoy the oscillations between being stationary and being on the move, the contrast between relative luxury and rather primitive living, between cold mornings and hot days, and between urban clamor and the calm of the forest. Initially and during the first months of this trip I was in various states of fight or flight response as I adjusted to off grid and constantly mobile living. My nervous system was often on alert and at times sleep was elusive or interrupted. After a while though my confidence improved and a sense of familiarity developed. I was finding my flow despite the variabilities and beginning to relish the type 2 fun that left me feeling stronger and more resilient as a result.
Pulling to the roadside for a photo above the valley, I reflect on the mutable nature of our perspectives and the invisible boxes that we create for ourselves out of habit and societal norms and outdated standards. I see how the emotional lenses that we use most often become permanently tinted through worry, scarcity, drama, and fear or.... hope. Joy. Compassion. Abundance. I see how easy it is to never be satisfied, to always feel separate, to take simple conveniences for granted; and the rush of gratitude, love, and appreciation that sweeps in when something dear is almost lost. In a moment we can go from indifference to deep feeling, and the nature of our thoughts is what turns the dial towards positive or negative. So I choose to practice the ones that are uplifting and the ones that bear hope, the ones that keep my chin up and my gaze on the horizon, and I remember to have patience when the lower emotions show up. Like clouds in the sky, I try to view them with kindness and non-judgement, knowing that the sun will shine again when they pass.
The nomadic nature of my current lifestyle has brought a closer attention to what I really need on a day to day basis, and a distinct awareness of the passage of time. Each new location acting as a way point providing an opportunity to notice what I have or still haven't gotten done, the objects I didn't use although I'm still carrying around, and the emotional baggage that resurfaces when I'm in transition. I am more adept now at seeing those shifts ahead and recognize the types of self care and preemptive consideration that I can give myself. One of my simple and often used phrases is... "We did it!". I use it after I hook up the trailer, or clip the dog's nails, after a long drive or after getting everyone in bed, just to add a sense of accomplishment to the end of the day. It's my way of saying "well that took many steps and sustained effort and look where we are now... We did it!". I love to embody the feelings of awe and appreciation and success even when the task is minor, so I remember when the goal is farther away that eventually I will get there and get to say "We did it!". πππ
Thanks to all of you reading!! Smiles and love from the road, Cassidy