I have been fascinated for the last 5 years or so with living in a camper. You heard me. I don't need a lot of space, just my roots and the road. Unfortunately, life hasn't allowed this to happen just yet, but I suppose I can always dream right? I think I've always had the inability to stay in one spot. The fact that I have been in the same home for 8 years often times feels foreign. If I have been away from where I usually lay my head at night for a while, and I come back to the roof over my head, I never feel that sense of "it's so good to be home". It feels good to be somewhere familiar, and comfortable and safe, but the idealistic feeling of "home" has managed to find itself sucked into the vortex of my mind, sort of like that place in the laundry room that sucks up a single sock that used to be a pair, except in your brain. Wherever it is in that vortex of my mind, I imagine it's swirling around with the lost sense of when it is appropriately sound to say "fuck" or that feeling of death being more than just a pain in the ass for everyone still living. For those close to me, you know that the particular vortex I'm referencing houses, lots of appropriate feelings that most likely will never to be seen heard from again. It seems to be in my bones to experience new places and call them home. For years and years, I almost felt as though something was wrong with me. I always had this feeling of guilt in my gut as the oldest root was growing up. Would she ever feel secure if I continued to live from place to place? I look back at those feelings now, and I'm much more perplexed now, at the guilt I felt than I am the fact that we moved 12 times in 10 years. I will say that several of those moves were unfortunate events that were out of my control, but I never really thought much of it all the same. Except for the time, our entire apartment building burned down. That added a whole new spin to "I need a shower, but I have no clean underwear". Needless to say, I suppose I have settled a bit, but I still am not a home owner. I have amazing property owners whom I pay a monthly fee letting us call this place "home" and when something is broken and we can't fix it, I give them a ring and they show up. Some people say that renting is wasting money, but I don't necessarily see it that way. For a monthly fee, I get a roof, AC/heat, my children have a yard to play in, I'm allowed to be free with my front yard garden, and once when my bank account was hacked and I was suddenly overdrawn by several thousand dollars, they waited patiently for the bank to fix it. To me, it's worth it for now. I don't know that I'll ever be one to feel the need to own a home. A camper? YES! A home? Well, isn't a camper a home? Not only is it a home, it's a home that I can take anywhere I want to. I pay a little money to park it somewhere magical, and there we are. Home. I can just imagine a life where I wake up with the roots nearby and for a brief moment, as I wake, I forget where I am. I think for some people that may be a nightmare, but to me, it seems nothing could be better than waking up and realizing you are somewhere altogether different than you thought but equally amazing. So, for the past several months, I have been slowly working on the RootMobile and making sure that it is roadworthy and pull ready because when spring rolls around, I will be fully prepared to set out on some adventures. I think Colorado will be my first stop. You see, 9 years ago I met another soul that was like mine, but not really. I was selling a pair of shoes on Craigslist, and I literally found a soulmate with not only the same shoe size but almost the same name. We have kept in touch online over the years, but have never met in person. We are like minded souls and we always talk about how we will meet one day. So, maybe I'll start there. After that, I want to go to Wyoming, and then Maine during the leaf peeper season. I want to see Mackinac Island and Torch Lake in Michigan. I want to park my camper and wake up to the foggy mountains and then next wake up on a warm beach before my mind recalls being there. I'm getting a bit of a late start on seeing the world the way I really want to, but with age comes the intense appreciation for the beauty that the world has to offer. It's sitting there and just begging to be noticed. I have a sneaky feeling that my middle root has the same vortex in his mind. Every time we are camping, it's as if a light switch has been flipped and the lights are turned on inside his soul. He is a grateful, loving little root, and his senses are in full swing when he is outside and breathing in all of the wild air. Maybe for some people, it's just in their being to never be still. Lifelong perpetual wanderers. I no longer feel guilty about what makes me wander or why I feel the need to do so, instead, I just accept the way I'm made and acknowledge that I have something to give and maybe it's not to be shared only with the people near me. I have big dreams, ideas of grandeur, and a wild and loving heart. What's so wrong with that? So let's take a trip. Where do you want to go? Live, Love, and Grow Roots.