What the desert is showing me...

I’ve been on the road exploring the American Southwest for the last 6 weeks or so. It’s been the first time since I began living in Hella 2.5 years ago that I’ve not been relatively stationary in a city with family or friends nearby. In essence, my first truly solo nomad experience and it has taught me a lot about myself.  

I have gone remote places far from help or services. I absolutely loved the experience, but on brief occasion I was surprised to find myself experiencing some anxiety. Death Valley can make you feel so tiny! Fear never took root or lasted long, but was very telling. I’ve come to the conclusion that that’s just going to happen at times when I am moving beyond a previously established comfort zone. No sane person is fearless. We are being courageous when we face our fears and push through them. This trip has provided me with ample opportunity for growth that way.

I have found my passion and connection to the desert is as deep as my connection to the ocean. They truly have so much in common. The vastness and phenomenal beauty. The intensity and serenity. The power to take your life in an instant. The endless flow of eternal energy sweeping through you. Their ancient nature touches me deeply. It’s all made me so grateful for my situation that allows me to spend time with both!

So, those are two wonderfully positive and expanding elements of my desert exploration since January 1. Now for the revelation that is not so easy to accept or fully understand if it’s a good or bad thing.

It turns out I do not form many deep attachments. Sure, that’s good in terms of not having irrational expectations of people or places, but it makes me question my depth. Either I’m becoming more whole as a person and am living in pure gratitude with no sense of lack, or I’m in denial of the absence of the things that virtually everyone around me feels they must have in their life to be happy. In my heart I feel it’s the former, but sometimes I wonder how it is I can be so content with wandering solo like I am. Loneliness is a common topic of discussion both online and in person with other solo nomads I meet. The few I’ve had the loneliness discussion with have pointed to my truck as a big reason I don’t have the same sense of social isolation that they do and I think they may be right. I would imagine it’s akin to the reception a sailor gets when they sail into a marina with a beautiful vintage wooden boat and tie up with all the modern fiberglass hulls. No vanlifer in a white van is approached by enthusiastically smiling strangers everywhere they stop the way that I am. And when I think back to my days of living in my first van from 1990 to 1995, I recall feeling very isolated much of the time. It all adds up to a very unique vehicle based life that I am blessed to be living. I think this is probably part of why I don’t feel lonely. As someone who will always be in revovery from being a lifelong denier of reality, my mind goes a bit crazy with this stuff! I feel like I’m very attuned to my truth, purpose and heart these days, so I sincerely hope I’m on a positive track like it feels to me. But, as I’ve learned many times in my life, the more you learn the less you realize you actually know.

As with all life’s big questions, time reveals our truth to us. We simply have to be willing to see and accept it. In the meantime the best we can do is be present and brave enough to follow our inspiration and trust the journey.