Since June, we’ve spent all our time, money and energy towards our future home in a 31 foot aluminum trailer. There are days that sounds like the adventure of a lifetime and other days it sounds completely absurd.
Despite planning our wedding five months from now, M spraining his ankle, me getting sick, and other small life distractions, the most challenging hurdle for me to overcome is the acceptance of this lifestyle we are jumping into. But, not in the way you think.
I’ve thought many times to do this process quietly. To take it in and be in the moment, truly absorbing the journey and shutting out the rest of the world — to go offline and rid myself of the noise.
You see, what we are doing isn’t novel. In fact, it’s almost turning into a cliché. Most of the people I follow on Instagram now are full-time Airstreamers and RVers, travelers and explorers. They have beautiful feeds of that ideal, free lifestyle. For that thing we think we are all searching for. While I tell myself I’m following them for ideas and insight, I too have been sucked into the draw of how much greener their side of the world seems. A side we can’t seem to get to fast enough. It can be an unnecessary pull of energy from the moment we’ve been given.
But you see, we are all the same. They had hiccups getting to where they are. Days when they probably looked around and wondered why they started. Some are open in sharing these “not so good” moments and some just seem like pixie fairies with no bad days.
We aren’t the pixie fairies. We are the 25-year-old and 27-year-old that were struggling to get to the next step in our lives, those stereotypical millennials living at home to save money after college, struggling to get a foothold.
That’s why we chose the Airstream. Yes it sounded and looked glamorous from all the blogs, forums and Instagram accounts, but we also had those late night conversations that picked apart whether we were really up for the task. It wasn’t an off hand decision. In fact, we were pretty apprehensive.
The point is, no matter how much I devote my life to simple, it doesn’t always mean things feel simple. Yesterday, I primed almost all of the rest of the Airstream and wanted to cry at the end because it didn’t look the way I thought it should. The cabinets I put the second coat of white paint on still looked off because, come to find out, I bought the wrong paint. It didn’t feel simple or fun or even OK. But then I came home to Mason and ate pizza and watched Netflix. I remembered that it is simple.
Simple doesn’t mean easy. It means you take every moment as it comes and you cherish it as it is, free of expectations. It just is, and just is can be pretty darn magical 100% of the time if you let it.
This is why I’m sharing our renovation story, despite the fact that more people have followed this blog than ever before. Despite feeling guilty when I don’t post weekly updates (even though there’s not much to update on). And mostly, despite the fact that it’s a trend and makes me compare our middle to someone else’s gorgeous finished end.
I’m sharing because it’s our life right now. We can’t always make it pretty and tied up with a bow, or at least it isn’t our desire to try, and hopefully some people will find it easier to connect to.
We aren’t designers or cabinet makers or architects. I’m a writer and Mason only knows the basics of construction. We’re just learning as we go and fortunate enough to be in a place where we have the ability to take the time to learn. We are skimping and saving and trying not to cut corners. When it’s all said and done we want a home that can move with our needs and save us enough to pay off student loans . And yes, hopefully we’ll get to go on some wonderful adventures in between.
So for any of you taking on a project like this or still contemplating it, take this kernel from Elizabeth Gilbert’s Big Magic (which I highly recommend):
that every single pursuit—no matter how wonderful and exciting and glamorous it may initially seem—comes with its own brand of shit sandwich, its own lousy side effects… if you love and want something enough—whatever it is—then you don’t really mind eating the shit sandwich that comes with it.
No one said it was going to be easy, but they didn’t say it wouldn’t be worth it. Have a happy Sunday!
And in case this was all a little too deep, we get to pick out our butcher block counter top today and I’m pretty excited about it 😉 Keep on keepin on!