Last weekend we managed to squeeze in a trip in Discovery. We found a hidden gem of a state park only three hours outside the summer kiln of Dallas / Fort Worth. We lounged lakeside enjoying the thrill of doing absolutely nothing. I’d intended to file the usual Captain’s Log for our trip, but lately writing has been a challenge.
For me, putting words on a page is part meditation. Making this happen as the furniture disappears around you, as the walls go blank, as your world feels less like home and more like an incomplete transition, is harder than I thought it would be. This disruption is more complete and total than I expected.
It’s been two years since we first decided to live our life on the road. Then it was a vague plan which sounded so simple: pare down our material possessions, buy an RV, drive into the sunset. But this isn’t an orderly list which we’ve checked off one item at a time. It’s more like a steady accumulation. An avalanche.
We thought we’d gotten rid of most everything to downsize for our rental house. On the second pass, our practiced minimalist eyes keep finding things which shouldn’t have made that move. In the few weeks since my last post we’ve sold or consigned most of our furniture, inventoried and donated twenty four years worth of kitchenware, carted off or sold a shed full of garden tools and hazardous materials, spent every weekend boxing keepsakes and heirlooms with regular trips to our storage unit.
We’ve also had college enrollment to contend with to make sure our son is ready for his new adventure. Add to that tending to our cryptomining business, managing my book publicity and sales, juggling employment opportunities, and scheduling the first few stops on our trip alongside a few more make ready tasks for Discovery and we’ve not had much rest.
Blogging through all of this in an orderly, step by step fashion might’ve been overly ambitious. Plus, my new minimalist mindset has taken root. Blindly adding to the glut of information swirling around all of our lives feels like a violation of the same process I’m trying to achieve.
In fact, I’ve been downsizing every aspect of my life, digital and otherwise. I’ve discovered that for years I’d been working harder, not smarter. Many of the things I’d defined as “work” didn’t produce enough results to earn the title. Because of this, my focus has been too fractured.
I’d post a guide or a step by step if only I knew how I got here and what “here” is. But this is one of those things which only becomes clear in hindsight. If I stop to analyze it now, I’m not sure it would make any sense.
I’ve hit reset. This isn’t the simple “ctrl-alt-del” I’d initially imagined though. This is a factory reinstall and a cold boot. Kind of interested to see where it all leads.
RUSS LINTON 
Leave a Reply