The Art of Being Still

It’s hard to believe January is almost over (almost as hard as believing it’s 2025!). We’ve started our new year in stark contrast to how we ended it, which has the net result of making us feel balanced (yeah, riiiight). The end of 2024 saw us rooted down, nomad-style, for two months in the Florida Keys. At first, I was worried being still that long would feel like a punishment, like we were actively choosing to miss out on exploration and highlight-reel-worthy life experiences. It turns out I was wrong (it happens often in this life, though never in matters with my husband, ahem). Taking a breather and just being somewhere for a while was exactly what we needed, and I’m growing increasingly grateful for it each day.

Thanks to our penchant for the ridiculous, there’s been no easing back into life on the road for Colan and me. It’s been jarring, leaving perpetually warm weather for Texas's uncharacteristically cold and bitter skies, followed by the same in New Mexico. (If you want to keep things interesting for your skin, eyeballs, and sinuses, go from 100% humidity to zero. Dare you.) In January, we’ve driven over two thousand miles (what’s this 3-3-3 fabled rule everyone speaks of?!), explored two national parks, and are currently sitting in our sixth RV resort. Those relatively quiet months in Florida were a much-needed delineation from Crazy: 2024 Edition to Crazy: 2025 Edition. (We like to keep things organized here, what can I say.) Also, I know this is a great problem, so rest assured I’m rolling my eyes along with you, but it was a welcome mental break being somewhere we could work without the constant, nagging feeling that we were missing something. There’s so much (self-imposed) pressure to do and see it all. Does anyone else feel that way?

Those of us who gravitate towards this lifestyle already have a love for adventure and, it seems, a higher tolerance for—what’s exactly the word I’m looking for— risk? Discomfort? The Unknown? It’s so helpful and restorative to take a breather sometimes. We have a six-week stay booked in the Palm Springs area during spring. It’ll be a nice hunker-down spot with plenty within daytime driving distance to explore without cramming, but also because the last time there, it was hot enough to (over)cook an egg. We want to hike Joshua Tree without constantly worrying about giving carrion birds a payday. Plus, it puts us close to one of my oldest, dearest friends. We can pretend we’re in grade school again and slumber party it up.

After being anchored six weeks, we’ll be refreshed and ready to pull up chocks, assuming our middle-aged-you-know-whats live through The Coachella Valley Music and Arts Festival (remember our penchant for the ridiculous?). True to form, our first day back on the road will be long, with a 500-mile drive to Utah. Ripping off the bandaid and all that, but really, it’s more of trying to quench the unquenchable and satisfy the wanderlust. Please let us know if anyone has figured out how to do that. And in the meantime, we’ll work on being better at being still. I recommend the same for you, too. It’s a beautiful state of being, at least for a bit.

Hope to see you out there. -CL