7: How We’ve Evolved as People Since Living in a Van
Nov 25, 2018
We’re currently just outside Rotterdam and I’m already starting to lose the feeling in my fingers as I type. Since we got to mainland Europe a few days ago, the temperature has plummeted.
We’re seeing threats of snow on the weather forecast and have been driving in coats, hats and gloves as Snail is only capable of blowing out cold air. Seeing our breath whiten before our eyes is just part of daily life now.
Outside the van, there is the most stereotypical Dutch landscape I ever did see. A watery meadow where several large windmills are turning as a fiercely red sun sets through the clouds.
Simone just handed me our attempt at mulled wine, van style: boiled liquid from the €1.99 carton (that she thought was an irresistible bargain), with segments of satsuma peeled into it. It didn’t taste great but it’s warming my hands and feels like a christening of winter moment.
But icy temperatures won’t defeat us because our furnace is keeping us warm at night (although we do wake up with cold noses sometimes), and we’ve had the luxury of spending the past two nights in a warm bed at Simone’s Dutch Aunty’s house, who she hadn’t seen in 15-20 years.
This trip so far has allowed us to connect with more distant family we’d unlikely have the pleasure of spending time with - had we not given time to ourselves. It’s a humbling reminder of how far our roots must spread. We feel connected, beyond borders, and more at home in the world.
It gets me thinking about how much we’ve grown in the past two months. Two months that would slip away without much changing in our old 9-5 lifestyle. In the van, we’re learning what you don’t get taught at school or work - about life itself. And it’s evolving us as people
PATIENCE
Snail not only represents the fact she’s slow and carries our home on her back, but how we’ve opted for the slow life by living in her. Compared to our old worlds where we’d manically be trying to balance plates: our jobs, our band, our social life - in an attempt to get more done, to make progress and accelerate, as encouraged in our twenties - we’ve learned life in the slow lane is much more rewarding.
After 24 years, I’m finally, deeply learning patience.
Obviously, living in a van demands patience in having to deal with normal tasks taking much longer - but it also provides patience as a state of mind.
As we watch people racing to overtake us sometimes, round corners, with other vehicles heading towards us - someone even went the wrong way around a roundabout to overtake us today - we just watch in shock. Shock of the impending danger, but more so of the impatience. As we roll up behind them at the next traffic light, I think back to how I used to run for trains and rush around - and how useless it was.
We’ve learned the importance of not rushing to the end goal, and instead focusing on the process. Because otherwise life becomes just a means to that end. In the race to arrive faster, we’re not only stressed, but haven’t noticed the beautiful river running alongside us. There’s quote I like which sums it up: ‘Nature doesn’t hurry, yet everything is accomplished’.
When living in a van without a job, thinking too much about the ‘end’, or the future, is a very dangerous thing to do. Worrying about getting mugged is enough to keep us up at night and the unknown can look very dark ahead. But the future doesn’t exist yet - worrying about something that doesn’t exist is about as helpful as fearing the boogey man. (The same kind of fear that easily could have kept us in a comfortable 9-5 job in London). The only thing that exists is right now is this moment - where I’m sat safe in our cosy home as Simone quietly reads opposite me. Life is much nicer here :)
ADAPTABILITY
This lifestyle means we have to be pretty comfortable with constant change on a daily basis.
And quitting our jobs and heading in one direction without looking back has meant we’re becoming content with the unknown. It’s a hell of a relieving feeling.
We have little baggage - literally because we live in a van - but also because we’ve shed weight we mentally imposed on ourselves before. Weight we now realise were empty bags because the unknown is ultimately an illusion.
Like relentlessly trying to progress in a desire to be ’successful’, to earn more, be more - or holding ourselves back with destructive self doubt. It’s not real, so why carry the bag?
Snail has made us open and adaptable to whatever happens - good or bad. Even the ‘bad’ situations are sometimes, in hindsight, our highlight experiences. For example, we discovered there was a family of hornets living in the walls of the van.
On around seven separate occasions we’ve been invaded by a giant hornet. Seriously, these were big boys.
After a few initial visits, we started to notice a pattern. At around 9pm every few nights, out of nowhere, we would hear an impending buzz. Then Simone would dart to the floor and the hunt, cup in hand, would begin. After the third or fourth invasion, it became clear that they were coming from inside the van because they’d emerge when all our doors and windows were shut for the night. But why always the same time, and always just one?! Still freaked out!!
We haven’t been attacked in a few days so we’re hoping the war is over. Regardless, we’re not going to let it weigh on us, and we’ve got the priceless memories of each other rising to the challenge of capturing it, followed by dropping the cup, screaming and running out of the van as the enraged hornet bumped off the walls towards us. Genuine highlight.
The resulting feeling of dropping our baggage and being open to everything deserves it’s own section…
BECOMING CHILDREN
It’s a bit an oxymoron, evolving by becoming a child. But we’re living like massive kids and it’s the best thing ever. Everyone should strive to grow down.
Why we’re kids: We stare at clouds in complete awe and point out weird trees and mountains shaped like bums. Burst into spontaneous song about the scenery as we’re driving. Make friends with sheep and cows. Roll around in bed and pillow fight each other. Spend time painting and learning piano. Question everything like it’s new. Rarely look in the mirror.
Why should we be encouraged to ‘grow up’ as we get older? I think something dries up as we grow up, and life becomes more serious, more heavy. Since living in Snail we’ve regained the most energising freedom. We’re seeing wonder in everything and laughing more daily than we have in years.
I once heard something that stuck with me: as soon as you tell a child what a bird is, they never see a bird again. They only see the label of a bird - so never really take it in. Over time, sunsets become familiar and stars are unexciting - we get used to life and it loses it’s vibrance.
Now - give us a leaf and we’ll honestly be happily occupied staring at it for a few minutes. Nothing is more liberating than finding wonder in the world. We’re going to be like children ‘til we’re old n grey.
HAPPINESS
Since living in Snail, this would be my definition of happiness:
Being happy is not wanting to be anywhere else except where you are right now, because nothing can beat it. Regardless, you’re not thinking about what could beat it, because you’re so into what’s happening right now.
The key to this, we’ve found - is feeling like nothing is missing. Because you’ve already got everything you need, and don’t seek fulfilment in anything else, so nothing is in the way of you and your happiness.
We haven’t bought new clothes or things which aren’t digestible (for us and Snail) in the past two months, feel totally comfortable not wearing make up, and welcome judgemental look on strangers’ faces as they struggle to comprehend how anyone could live in a van, because we don’t derive our sense of self from any of it.
In fear of being placed in a limiting hippie box, I have to agree the best things in life really are free, or pretty cheap atleast. We’re having a priceless time, on a budget. Of course, we could have a little more luxury - a non-rusty van, more cash to go out for dinner - but I’m really not convinced we’d be much happier than we already are, because - we already are.
P.S. Since writing this the furnace has heated the van to the point of being in a t-shirt so I’m hoping we wont be too affected by the cold. But, if we really can’t hack it, we do have the benefit of having a home on wheels, so we’ll take a tip from the birds and just keep driving south to warmer climates. One last thing - we’re adjusting well to driving on the right (wrong) side of the road.
Lots of love,
Becky and Simone