We were afraid to get uncomfortable, to lean into our life right now. It didn't feel real, some days and some moments, it still doesn't. When we stopped traveling, we were devastated. We had no idea how we'd get our dream back, or if we ever would. With our last $5000 dollars from the sale of our first Airstream, we bought our second within six weeks of being back home, with no idea how we'd finish it, poor as we were.
Now, after all the last year and a half has thrown our way - job loss, being broke as fuck, learning to co-parent with my ex-husband after years of heartache between us, starting our business in a now-or-never moment, we're really heading out of here. Our friends are planning a going-away party, and June is done and ready to go, and Ellen gave her notice at work. We've six more projects lined up over the next two years with destinations set, and a wait list for the next two years after...and we still hadn't budged. Our house looked the same. Full (full for us). Nothing packed, nothing sold, nothing donated. Intact. Normal. Regular.
We were afraid to let any of it go, afraid that we'd lose this dream, this reimagined dream, again. It was easier to keep living as if we weren't getting back on the road. We'd not kicked ourselves into high gear yet - to downsize again, to really kick ass on our clients' Airstream, to say our goodbyes for real.
We had to force ourselves to get uncomfortable. We had to tell ourselves - this IS real. We DID it. It only took a year and a half. We worked for it and didn't give up even when it seemed impossible, even when we were exhausted, we ARE exhausted. So here's to an emptying house, getting uncomfortable, the hardest work we've ever known, and dreams. We're headed out of here.