I am not a hippy. I’m not a crusty. I’m not a gypsy. I work for a living. I pay my taxes and I am a responsible citizen. I believe in recycling. I do not litter. But I want a simple life and so with my husband I’m moving into a van. Maybe we will hate it. Or maybe this is the beginning of a new life.

In search of another life

"They danced down the streets like dingledodies, and I shambled after as I've been doing all my life after people who interest me, because the only people for me are the mad ones, the ones who are mad to live, mad to talk, mad to be saved, desirous of everything at the same time, the ones that never yawn or say a commonplace thing, but burn, burn, burn..."

Jack Kerouac

Sunday, 27 June 2010

Life on the Outside

Living on the outside of society is something I am familiar with from my time of living abroad, struggling to learn languages and understand local customs. But living in a van feels as though we have stepped out of a society that is completely familiar to us, and that can feel strange and a little lonely at times.

We both almost feel as though we are doing something shameful when we speak to certain people. Both of our bosses know where we live yet we try to avoid discussing it at work. Friends and family laugh at us. I’m not offended though. Life is an adventure and this is part of it. One thing I have learned is that I don’t want to live in a van for the rest of my days. This is not a new way of life.

Reg met a man in his sixties who spent three years living in a van but recently decided to get a contract on a flat. He absolutely hates it and I can understand why he would. But I am certain that when the time comes for us to live in a flat again I will be very happy. Like life, happiness is a delicate thing which can be destroyed in an instant by the repercussions of tiny changes. One minute you can be spouting off about how wonderful everything is and the next you are questioning it all. At least that’s how it is for me.

We went to a wedding yesterday (lovely ceremony and party Davey!) and where did I get myself ready? The gym changing room of course. And a very nice changing room it is too.

No comments:

Post a Comment