“Happiness is letting go of what you think your life is supposed look like.”
Unknown
“You only live once.”
“False. You only die once, you live every day.”
Oh Dwight Schrute… you over there with your wise words.
Have you ever reflected on that? I did, and I do just about every single day. For those new here, I write about living full-time in a camper, and truly being able to live my best life. But let me tell you. The road to getting here was a rocky one. For this post, I want to share a little bit about that, and what happiness really means. Hint: It’s not really what you have been told. I have a couple of books I am going to quote, and highly, highly recommend because they are beautifully written and have been really impactful to me. I hope they are for you too.
Anywhohotnholler. The year was 2018. Specifically January 1st. And in true Nikki fashion, with unwavering enthusiasm, I happily exclaimed “2018 is gonna be my best year yet, I can feel it.”
Ahem. I was never both so wrong and so right in my whole life.
But first, let’s get a backdrop so this will make sense.
I started working for Best Buy when I was 16 (no I am not going to do a whole timeline from then, though I know you are desperate to hear all about my life *insert sarcasm here, though it IS a good story*). At the time, it was because I hated working for Betty At American Eagle, iykyk… and I HATED watching people frussle up my freshly folded t-shirt table literally the second I finished perfecting it. I wanted to slap the hands of the people reaching for the pile and yell “WHAT SIZE DO YOU WANT?” But, Betty frowned upon that. And everything else everyone did in that store, which included breathing and existing. I’d heard the discount at Best Buy was awesome. Oh, and lest we not forget the plethora of hot guys who worked there, which, as a 16 year old was the real reason, if we are being honest. Anyhow, I started as a cashier. And I never thought I’d spend my life working there. Fast forward a couple of years after my dad passed when I was 20 (whole separate post for that one) my whole life, as you can imagine, changed. I was one of the lucky ones who had parents to fully financially support me, that is, until that day happened, and then I was 100% on my own. I found myself needing to work full time, as well as being a full-time pre-med college student- I still don’t know how I did it. And so, as the story goes, I became a full-time employee. I was quickly promoted to a supervisor role, and one day promoted to a store manager. At first, I was all about it solely for, you guessed it, the pay check. I was literally living penny-to-penny with a bank account that stayed below $0 regularly (If NSF fees could buy a house, I’d have had one before age 25). Plus, I always had a draw to leadership. At a certain point, I decided I wanted to really lead with purpose, and commit myself to the company, and ended up working in retail management (talk about having intestinal fortitude…) for almost a decade. But something in me really hated it- I didn’t hate leading people, or all of the wild customers I encountered, specifically on Manager Mondays, but I hated missing out. On everything. I worked a minimum of 50 hours a week, with a 40-hour a week salary, and I missed holidays, birthdays, weddings, funerals… and nights and weekends. It sucked.
Living in Wisconsin, I wasn’t too far from Best Buy’s corporate office, and plus, a bunch of my friends made the migration out to Minnesota to work there. So naturally, I thought about how that was going to be my next step in life. I’d be in a new territory, but surrounded by friends. I reflected on how much I loved training and development, and taking this step was like taking my leadership role to a whole new level, one that benefitted 120,000 of my closest friends.
And so, I applied for jobs. I was so hell bent on getting a role there that I left my Great Grandma’s FUNERAL early for an interview. Spoiler alert- I didn’t get the role. It should have been a sign. But I applied onward. Finally, one day I got the call. I got the job, and my now husband and I were going to be making the Great Migration to Minnesota. I remember telling a coworker that I had gotten a gig at the “Magic Castle” and he started laughing.
“You are definitely NOT meant for that kind of role… you’ll never last.”
I. Was. Pissed. Not only that, but it became my mission in life to prove him wrong.
We made the move and I started my shiny new 9-5 in a cushy corporate life (imagine how thrilled I was when I discovered it really wasn’t even a full 9-5!). I was so excited for New Hire Orientation, I could hardly stand it. I will come back to this later, but during the last day we had to write ourselves a letter about where we saw ourselves in the future, and for the sake of knowing what I wrote, I put that within the next 3 years I would be a “director.” Of what, I had no idea.
I remember during the interview for this new job I had, my then new boss Marsha (may she rest in peace) asked me to rate myself on a scale of 1-10 on my Excel capabilities. Having done lab reports in Excel my entire college career, I confidently exclaimed “8!!!” You can imagine both of our shock and awe the day she asked me to do a pivot table for her. “A what?” I asked having never, ever heard of that before. Anyhow. We quickly realized my 8 was really equivalent to a 2 and I had a lot of learning to do. I was hired in a training role, but it was doing reporting on training. If you know anything about me, doing menial tasks, such as creating reports in Excel, makes me want to rip my hair out and die. Was my coworker right? Was I cut out for this? To be honest, I didn’t care. There was no way I was going back to working in a store. Ever. My nights, weekends and holidays- my freedom, meant too much to me. I started to pick up on corporate culture, which includes, but is not limited to: politics, having meetings to have meetings, the art of arguing passive-aggressively, how to send emails and use corporate jargon to make people look like fools and ass kissing, and- I got good at it. I hated it, and if felt gross, but I figured it out.
Then the day came. I got “the meeting invite” for a Tuesday morning. I felt sick. Anyone who works or worked there knows that Tuesday morning meeting invites mean your role has been eliminated. And so it was. As it turns out, my role in reporting wasn’t really needed, which I figured out along the way, so I was dabbling in everything else in the retail training space to help out – and doing the things and job I really loved, specifically, facilitating. I was heart-broken. Surely they saw what a good job I was doing and could make a role for me there?? Hard no. That’s not how it works in Corporate America, Nickles. You are just a number. And at the end of the day, everyone is really just covering their own asses anyhow.
If you’re interested in a fun story- the layoffs at the Buy were so massive that the restaurant across the street (Lucky’s 13, and to this day I miss their frickles and club sammies) was where recently-laid-off-ees would flock to following this “Tuesday morning meeting” for happy hour (I get it now). There were often so many people, the biggest news channels in the Twin Cities area would be waiting for them to ask what was going on and get the inside scoop.
Oh! And just to keep it interesting, it was also noteworthy to mention that we had just bought a house too, and I have never felt so lost, or scared in my life.
To cut to the chase and make a long story short, they give you a week to find a new job and at 5 p.m. on the final Friday, I got the call that I had gotten one of the gigs I had applied for. What a relief. And it was still in training, doing exactly what I loved in another arm of the business. I was stoked. It was here that I met both the best leader of my life and the worst human being to walk the planet who was also a leader of mine. They were not the same person, but I left that role because of who I will refer to as Betty From American Eagle Part 2 But Worse. (It was so bad, I told the VP at the time what she was doing and how horrible she was that he asked me if she needed a lobotomy… and yet, she wasn’t actually fired until she did some ethical no-nos). But, as luck would have it, the new role I took was a step up, which meant more money (which I still needed, especially after buying a house that needed a complete renovation) and a bigger annual bonus, or what people in Corporate America refer to as Why I Work Here. It was perfect. And here’s where it gets good.
It was a job in communications. If you couldn’t already tell, I love writing. That’s why I have this blog. But before we get too excited, let’s make note that this job was not about this kind of writing. I wrote far more exciting things… like articles on the new 401k provider we were getting. And execution guides on tax-free weekends in states like Virginia and Louisiana (no shade to those states, they just weren’t relevant to me because I didn’t live in them). Even more, no one read what I wrote. I’m serious, I asked my friends who still worked in stores. “No ma’am, sure didn’t waste my time reading that.” We had spirited debates in team meetings on things like whether or not to use the Oxford comma (hard no, if you are curious). *PS I loved this team, so this isn’t to say the people weren’t great, because they were.*
A couple of months into my new role something REALLY exciting happened! My dream job opened on my former retail training team, it was a role specifically in facilitation. MY PRAYERS HAD BEEN ANSWERED, I was going to apply. I was going to get it and I was going to be the happiest gal on planet earth. I told my boss about it, and my boss’ boss (who may be reading this and happens to be a close, close friend of mine, to which I should note- none of my griping is about the people, specifically my friends, this is all about Corporate America, which if you just met me, and you’ll discover in this here post, I have major beef with). I felt bad too, because I had just accepted this role, the timing just sucked.
In Corporate America, in case you didn’t know, there are rules. People take these rules Very Seriously. And while I am a person who firmly believes rules are meant to be bent and broken when it makes sense, you simply cannot do that in C.A. There happened to be this rule that said you can’t take another job until you have been in role for at least a year. But wait. This is where it gets riveting. I could have quit and applied as an external applicant (which unfortunately, was too much of a risk for me, but that’s where they get cha!) AND I would have even made more money, people quit and get re-hired into different roles for that reason because loyalty to a company doesn’t mean anything, especially when pay is involved. This is where I bet you are saying to yourself “how much sense does that make?” I’ll answer that for you. None. It makes none sense. And I cried when I withdrew my application. I think this is really where my resentment for C.A. started.
I carried on, writing even flashier articles on new financing options and *special* clearance and open-box events (thrilling, yes?) and I started looking for other roles. I just wasn’t happy. During this time, something kept happening. I was second best in every single role I applied for. I loved interviewing, and I was a schmoooooozer, what was going on? I’ll tell you what – the universe in all her glory was quietly yelling “Nikki, there is something much, much bigger for you, stop making this so hard on both of us.” But of course, I didn’t hear that. All I could hear was that I was a failure and after almost 2 decades at this company, I wasn’t good enough. My coworker was right.
Unhappiness spills into every aspect of your life. Which isn’t surprising and certainly isn’t rocket science- but, as such, things in my personal life were also not going “according to plan.” Fast forward to May of 2019, I had a breaking point. What’s comical here is that I wrote the articles and made the PowerPoint slides for the Important People to speak on about on the criticality of our mental health (May IS Mental Health Awareness Month too… coincidentally) which again, no one read or paid attention to. Including me. I didn’t even think taking a leave of absence to focus on my mental health was an option. Until I realized I didn’t have a choice. Things were epically falling apart at the seams at work, and if ever there was a time I felt like a failure, this was it. What was wrong with me??? (Trauma. That’s what). So, I took a leave of absence for 4 months. Over the summer. What you have to understand is that I started working at the age of 13 (yes. I am aware it wasn’t legal. Shhht). I had never, ever in my whole life had this much time to myself. It was incredible. It was also this time that I began the dis-identification process of myself as Best Buy. I always joked I bled blue and yellow, and I started to realize how silly that sounded. There was even a slogan that proclaimed “I am Best Buy.” How foolish we are to think and play into the hype that we are a company? Yes, of course. I am the company that didn’t care when my job was eliminated. Or that didn’t let me apply for the role I so desperately wanted. Or that kept telling me I wasn’t good enough for a promotion. That one. I am that. I’m laughing even writing this.
Over this summer, I began to find myself. I began to sink into silence. If you know anything about me, you know that I am not quiet. Ever. I am the woman who would do cartwheels into and out of elevators. The latter didn’t go so well, and makes for an absolutely hilarious story, but I digress. I am the one with a really loud laugh. The one who always talked in meetings. The one who was always “on.” And in this newfound silence, I realized I didn’t need to do that. My husband was always saying “honey, go do something,” with this new freedom, but I didn’t want to. I was always doing something. And now, I just wanted to be still.
Four months goes by really fast when you are enjoying yourself. Labor Day was right around the corner. And the Tuesday following Labor Day was The Day. The day I had to go back. Every fiber in my being was screaming… I wasn’t ready. I couldn’t go back. But, I had already taken 4 months, which was longer than a “normal” (whatever that means) leave, and I felt like taking more time would be selfish. I woke up before my alarm went off with heart palpations. I showered. I got dressed and did my makeup. I was trembling like crazy. I kissed my husband good bye and got in my car. My heart was racing the whole way. By the time I got into the parking garage, I was having a full-blown panic attack. I grabbed my bag and badge and walked into the building. So, so many people welcomed me back, told me how much they missed me, and how quiet it was without me there. I wanted to run away. I got to my desk, there it was, the same as before, but with warm smiles and welcome-backs from my team. As I said, and can’t say enough, I truly did love the people I worked with, and I know they were all truly happy to see me. And I was happy to see them again too. But I wanted to crawl under my desk.
After having a meeting with my boss about where we were at and what work needed to be done and how I was doing and so on, my first order of business was booking a meeting room. For the whole day.
No, no. I didn’t have a meeting. I just couldn’t be at my desk. So I booked a meeting room for just me to be in silence. And then I did the same thing the next day. And the day after that. I found quiet places to hide out. My boss asked me where I was and what I was doing, and that the team wanted to know where I was (this was an innocent ask). And for the first time, I was an absolute snot. No one needed to know where I was. At all. And if we were going to “play by the rules” as we do in C.A., then I was going to point out that according to HR, I didn’t need to share anything I wasn’t comfortable with in person or with my calendar. They couldn’t make me, so I wasn’t going to.
There is a really great Simon Sinek video that discusses the importance of trust in the workplace. He discusses how when we don’t feel like we can trust people, we become withdrawn. Cynical. We feel like people are out to get us. We go into survival mode and become “us vs. them” focused. Ah yes Simon. I am familiar with that. That was me. Now, to be clear, I did trust my leader (she is still a dear friend). But I wasn’t ready to be back and was acting all sorts of ways about it. To those I worked with in those moments back then, I am sorry.
About a week later, Justin, my hubs and I were on a bike ride tooling about St. Paul. I remember exactly where I was. He was just ahead of me when I said the sentence that would change my life. “Honey, we should sell the house and I can quit Best Buy and we could move into a camper… what do you think? I’m being serious too.”
I recently asked him what he was thinking when I said that, and his reply was “that you were batshit crazy.” Anyhow, we put our house on the market later that month and it was sold by the end of October. My last day in C.A. was the week of Thanksgiving.
I was stoked for a number of reasons, but in particular, as you all know, the holidays in retail are insane. I always had to work the overnight shift the night of Turkey Day to be on call in the event Very Important Communication needed to go out to my friends in the stores who still didn’t read the emails. I had to be in the office for this, in a meeting room, with a bunch of other people (but there were snacks!). We watched movies and shopped Black Friday deals online all night. It was exhausting. But you bet your ass I was ready to SEND THE COMMUNICATION THAT SAMSUNG IS MATCHING SONY’S TV DEAL AND TO PRICE MATCH IT FOR CUSTOMERS SO THEY DON’T GET MAD AND WE WIN. Really got my heart racing, let me tell you.
Anyhow, I packed up my desk. Gave most of my things away to the Office Supply Nook right back to where I had gotten them from in the first place. I had never been so ready in my whole life. And then it hit me. I was leaving a company I had given 22 years of my life to. I had sold my dream home. We poured our heart and soul into renovating it and making it our own. We got married in the back yard. I thought about how excited I was when I took the role and we moved to Minnesota (until I learned that liquor stores were closed on Sundays… this was later changed, but talk about a surprise!). How we had built our life together here and I was just, leaving all of it. Just like that. I had quit my job with nothing lined up. We were moving into a camper, and one that I had never actually seen yet. What in the world was I doing???
I am just over 3,000 words in and I am now getting to the point. In case you were curious, I have never been accused of being succinct and to the point. 😊
What in the world was I doing? Let me answer that, I was letting go of what no longer served me. I was opening a space to deepen my relationship with my husband. I was creating my own future, in alignment with who I really wanted to be. Doing what I was meant to do on this planet. I was healing myself, and soon, others. I was focusing on “my dash.”
Your life is not marked by the day you are born, or the day you die, but rather by what you do in the space between, or, your dash. And for whatever reason, the universe wasn’t going to allow me to waste my life doing stupid shit any longer.
I love talking about brains. Like, really love it. And one thing we need to know about our brains is how they are wired. One of those things we are wired for is routine. Predictability. What we know. It’s a survival mechanism to keep us safe. If we know what to predict, and when, we won’t die. Yes, that is how our brains think. We have all seen the graphic that shows the further we go from our comfort zone, the more we learn and grow. But it’s not easy because of the above evolution of our gray matter. (Fun fact I learned during my time in communications… Americans use “a” in gray and English folks use “e” as in grey… I guess I can’t say I didn’t learn anything in that time. The more you know, right?). I reflect back on that and think how easy and hard that was to do, and the fact that my husband did it right alongside me. Just crazy.
Oh, and a bit unrelated, but related and a fun fact for you all… when I left C.A. I asked if I could work in a store for a while as I figured things out. And so I did. As a result of the pandemic, I was (as a Best Buy store employee who worked minimally) furloughed. I was fine with it, because as I mentioned, it wasn’t really about working, but more about figuring out my next steps, and there were people who were working for the paycheck and needed their job. But, with that being said, and just another testament to how little companies actually care about you, I was let go in August of 2021. How did I find out? No, it wasn’t an email letting me know. Nope, it also wasn’t a phone call to tell me. I went to buy a phone cord and when I gave the employee my ID for my discount it told us both that my ID wasn’t valid. I called HR to ask what was going on, and they informed me my employment was terminated, many furloughed employees were eventually let go, and I was one of them but no one bothered to tell me. After 22 years, that was how my story ended. I Am Best Buy, right? Quietly and without a word. Talk about feeling like I mattered…
That was a really emotionally tough moment, but we are past that now. Let’s keep moving along, shall we? But first, an excerpt from the book Reinventing Organizations by Frederic Laloux because it’s relevant to this story:
“When we set goals for our life that are disconnected from our deeper selfhood, when we wear other people’s faces, we don’t stand to the strength of our own selfhood. Inevitably, we will find ourselves lacking and invest much energy in trying to overcome our weaknesses, or in blaming ourselves or others for not being who we think we ought to be.”
Remember the letter I wrote myself in Orientation? About wanting to be a “director”? I didn’t write that because that is what I really wanted to be. It’s who I thought I needed to become to be worthy. To have value. Somewhere along the line, I lost sight of what was really important to me, and was wearing “someone else’s face” thinking that climbing the corporate ladder, making a lot of money, having a McMansion was what was the key to happiness and success in life. Spoiler alert- it’s not.
Think this is just a Nikki-ism? The other book I wanted to reference in this post is called The Blue Zones of Happiness by Dan Buettner (thank you Troy for the recommendation, it’s phenomenal). In this book, Dan, along with a number of researchers, studied people for years and looked at what the keys to happiness really were. What lent itself to people becoming centenarians? To being healthy? I will give you a hint. It’s not your job title. It’s not the money you make. It’s not the things you own. It’s not a big house. It’s the 3 P’s. Purpose, passion and pleasure. He follows a man from Costa Rica who won a lottery of sorts and didn’t quit his job selling fruit at the market alongside all of his friends – instead, he gave most of the money away to people who needed it more than him (passion). He also talks about how volunteerism gives people a deep sense of satisfaction in life because of how they are able to be selfless and make a difference (purpose). The people who were happiest also spent time doing the things they loved to do, that gave them pleasure in life. So, the keys to happiness are having a purpose, and knowing what that is. Having a passion for what you do that aligns to your purpose, and for your life and letting yourself do the things you love (the things that truly set your heart on fire).
We spend so much of our time robbing ourselves of the things that really truly make us happy trying to wear the face of someone else. We lose ourselves in what is truly important in our lives, and some of us don’t even really know what makes us happy. We can’t sit in the stillness and quiet of our own minds because we feel like we need to be constantly moving. Leveling up. We offer up our health- physical and mental so we don’t skip a beat, or miss an opportunity. Or in some cases, a deadline. Gotta keep running with the herd. I taught a class recently where a woman profusely apologized to me for missing the session because she was sick. Never in 7 years at this organization has she called in sick, and she missed 2 days. I was dumbfounded. I assured her that there would be another session, and that HER HEALTH IS HER WEALTH. It was an hour-long class on delegation. It wasn’t earth shattering. And in 7 years she never called in sick? Jesus Christ.
I will also share this. As part of this “leveling-up” and “keeping with the herd” of my own, I always thought I needed to have a really big house. And, I made it happen (because, tenacity, and if you haven’t learned yet, I wasn’t good at listening to my own gut and was relentless to prove to myself I could do anything). The house we bought was 5,000 square feet. For 2 of us. FIVE THOUSAND SQUARE FEET. It took me an hour and a half just to vacuum everything. But, when we would go for walks, I would pass tiny houses and feel this sense of yearning. I couldn’t explain it, and would push it out of my mind, who would want such a teeny house? Well, as it turns out, me. Living in the camper has been the coziest, safest-feeling time of my life. It’s not even 450 square feet. But it feels right.
Let’s talk dolla dolla bills, y’all. When I left C.A, I had no real job lined up. As I mentioned, I worked in a store for a little bit- minimally, just to keep my discount and bide my time until we got our bonus payout in April (and then of course, I was furloughed), but after that, I had nothing. For a little while, I had a contract job making… wait for it. $20 an hour. I was making more money in my early 20’s than that job. But, I was given complete freedom. I could work as much or as little as I wanted. The person I reported to didn’t care what I did- I was creating training and developing a team of leaders and consultants, and had autonomy over what I thought should be trained. In my past life, getting a single PowerPoint slide approved was a month-long process (I am not kidding). I remember putting together a whole deck and sending it over to him for approval, and his reply back went something like this: “Nikki, I hired you to make these decisions and do what you think is best. I don’t need to approve this.” Um, excuse me, what? I was making enough money to pay my bills and that was about it. But I was…. You guessed it. Happy. And I learned so much about myself and what I was capable of. I wanted to work there forever. Unfortunately, and as I learned in contract jobs, when the contract is up, that usually means it’s up. And after almost a year, on December 31st at the stroke of midnight, my contract was up. But it was ok! Because I had made the decision that I was going to do something insane. I was going to open up my own business. (!!!). This contract gig gave me the permission I think I needed, and showed me I was absolutely capable of doing this on my own. And, I was right.
This all felt so foreign, but at the same time, so right. Foreign, in the sense that I was so used to a predictable bi-weekly paycheck my entire life, and when you own your own business, at least in my case, it was completely and entirely based on clients. And I started with zero clients. I remember when I got my first one though. I was terrified. Again, that little voice inside my head told me that I wasn’t good enough to be doing this work, but I talked myself off the ledge and for the first time, felt my power. Knew that this is what I should be doing. And I listened and let it happen.
I also did something equally insane. I decided I was going to have a “pay-what-you-can” sliding scale. I have some clients who pay a lot for sessions with me, some who can’t pay me at all and every variation in between. This went completely against everything I had thought about money in my “previous” life. My whole being was based on how much money I made. I almost had, well, probably did have, an arrogance about the whole thing, dropping hints about how much money I made, how “big” my annual bonus was. Had to have the most things. The nicest car. The biggest house. I loved showing it off. So what the heck? Why would I not do what every other coach or practitioner in my industry did and “charge my worth”? (This is just a fancy justification for being able to tell people that they charged $150-200 an hour and get people to actually do it). Because in this space of listening to what I really wanted and who I really wanted to be, this is what felt right. But I’m gonna use the term “squishy right” because it felt right, but didn’t feel like it was supposed to feel right. As I would come to understand, that is what un-learning looks like.
As all of this has unfolded, my relationship with my husband flourished in the most beautiful way. This de-construction of sorts in my life paved the way for true honesty and humility. Things that of course, and ironically, I would have said I had years ago if you asked me, but really truly didn’t have a grasp on what that actually meant. Part of this is because of what I do, in teaching people about themselves- but also, in my past I would have likely told you I was already an expert on myself. What I have learned about me over the last 3 years has been beautiful, thrilling, hard to swallow, painful and glorious all at once. I have had to learn and un-learn, had to open up my mind. Learn to hold space for myself and others (it’s still hard to do sometimes). I had to change my relationship with apologizing and being wrong, in that, I didn’t and wasn’t, ever. There is a second quote from the Reinventing Organizations book that I want to share:
“When we see our life as a journey of unfolding toward our true nature, we can look more gently and realistically at our limitations and be at peace with what we see. Life is not asking us to become anything that isn’t already seeded in us. We also tend to focus less on what is wrong or missing in people and situations, and move our attention instead to what is there, to the beauty and potential. We trade in judgment for compassion and appreciation. We see that, as humans, we are not problems waiting to be solved, but potential waiting to unfold.
When life is seen as a journey of discovery, then we learn to deal more gracefully with the setbacks, mistakes and roadblocks in our life. We can start to grasp the spiritual insights that there are to mistakes- simply experiences that point us to a deeper truth about ourselves and the world. In previous stages in our lives, life’s roadblocks (an illness, a bad boss, a failing marriage) are seen as unfair rolls of the dice. We meet them with anger, shame or blame and these feelings disconnect us from others and ourselves. In our evolution, obstacles are now seen as life’s way to teach us about ourselves and the world, we are ready to let go of shame, anger and blame, which are useful shields for the ego, but poor shields for the soul.”
The book goes on to explain that the process of disidentifying from the ego is one more step toward liberation on the human journey. And with disidentification comes separation. People in this part of their evolution develop a keen sense of how far we have let separation fragment our lives, and how much it has cost us. Meaning, we realize how much time we have wasted wearing someone else’s face. All of the sudden life explodes into all of the things to be experienced. For me, I feel like I don’t have enough time, even though that is what I have the most of now. Kind of like the last day on vacation when you realize all of the things you didn’t get to see or do. The great news is that I DO have time. We hear almost always (seriously, all of the time) when we tell people we live full-time in a camper that “that’s what we want to do when we retire!” Or “I wish we could do that.” It’s an interesting and beautiful concept when time becomes your currency.
I do want to be clear though that this hasn’t been a cake walk. One thing I didn’t expect, and certainly for my personality as an ever-optimist, was to feel grief over this major life change. After all, I wanted this. I chose this. And yet, it is still hard to see pictures of our old house- to see people celebrating another year at the Buy. I wake up happy every single day of my life in my cozy little bedroom, spending the first 20 minutes of being awake in a puppy snuggle puddle, no “grind” or “hustle” to pour my precious energy into- but grief still hits from time to time. It’s not a yearning or wishing to be back in that place, I wouldn’t trade my life for anything, it just goes back to what our relationship is with comfort and routine. And I’ve learned that is ok, and to let it be there and feel it, and then let it pass and let it go.
Before I close this monster of a post up, I do want to share for those of you who may be reading and have a sense of pride for the work you do (especially if you are a friend of mine who still works for the big blue box), that this is simply my own experience, and isn’t to say you shouldn’t feel a certain way about what you do, we each get to live our lives how we want. That said, my hope is that for those of you who want to take the leap, and maybe feel the way I did in some capacity, that you can and you should. Life unfolds beautifully when you live in your truth. Even if the journey there is messy or feels funny from time to time. There have been folks in my life who did take the leap, and I hear it often that they too didn’t know why they waited as long as they did, and we talk about our newfound happiness. I feel the same way, and sure am glad I’m here.
So my message is to not wait. If things in your life feel off, or they aren’t going your way- take the time to turn inward and listen to what you are telling yourself. What your soul is saying. We only have this one precious life, and it is unfair to each of us to spend our dash living anything but our own authentic face.
Oh, and my coworker? He WAS right, I wasn’t cut out for Corporate America. And I am so, so grateful I figured that out.
Well, I suppose it was bound to happen that I would end up writing about a lil unplanned blip in our life… these blips are inevitable for all of us, whether living in a home or a van down by the river (man I miss him) and everything in betwixt. Thankfully, and as I get to put into words, it hasn’t been too crazy for us. So this post serves as a glimpse into what a major global pandemic looks like to a couple living in a less-than-400-square-feet mobile abode, as well as a reminder to myself to stay positive (and that is for anyone else out there who needs it).
First things first, these last 5 months have been nothing short of amazing. And, if you have been following our journey, you have read that we were kind of meant for this life. So, what how has this global shutdown all shaken out for our #MeyersGoMobile clan?
For starters, I have always been a “preparer,” not to be confused with a “prepper” (though if that is your thing, you do you, boo- I am just saying that wasn’t the level I took it to for myself and my family). In my entire life, I have always, always planned for worst case scenario. The reason for that is mostly because everything in my life that could go wrong, usually did. And so, as my (amazing!) therapist informed me, that is a trauma response. And I certainly used it to my advantage. Getting a rash of storms or possible tornadoes coming through? No problem. The basement was ready to go with food, water, crank radio, wine (yep), candles… you name it. We were ready. Our political nature gettin a lil too weird with Kim Jong Un? You bet I researched how to survive that kind of disaster and had a tucked away room at the ready. But again, I didn’t go overboard. Just what we would need, just in case. Same goes for my car- Minnesota winters can be heinous. And if we broke down, I was ready.- like, able to camp in my car ready. So when this whole “sell your house and stuff and move into a small space” thing happened, I researched the shit out of it. What to bring, what not to bring. How to stay safe… hell, how high of winds the camper could withstand with the slides out in a major storm (approximately 75 mph in case you are curious. More if you are pointed toward the wind). I packed for everything. When I got wind of this little virus, I thought it was a valid time to prepare, just in case.
And so, I did. Nothing too wild (yes, I left the toilet paper and hand sanitizer), but food for a few weeks, toiletries we were already low on, and extra meds for my Beanie Girl. I went before everyone was in full-blown frenzy mode, and I have to admit, there was this part of me that wondered if I should even be doing this, if it would amount to anything, and if I was being a bit crazy. After all, there is only so much space in a camper, and you can only put so much stuff in it before it gets too heavy to move. I also reasoned to myself that I didn’t go overboard, and most of the stuff I got was non-perishable (and we needed a lot of the things I bought anyhow), so spend money now or later, we still needed it. Again, and I can’t stress this enough, except the toilet paper. 🙂
Before I knew it, days turned into weeks and it seemed like the virus mayhem was living up to it’s hype. First, the pool shut down (boo hoo, I know, but it was winter back home, and 80 in South Carolina, and it just felt so damn good laying in the sun in March). Then all of the facilities shut down at the park, as did restaurants and stores throughout, well, the whole world. It felt strange. And suddenly, like A Big Deal. Fortunately, Justin and I already sort of self-isolate- that is what camping life is all about. Either by being in the middle of nowhere, enjoying nature, or in a camper park where you are close to your neighbors, but everyone respects the other’s space and keeps to themselves. There is a reason doors are all on the same side of a camper…
One of the things I love about my husband, and our life, is that we get out. And get out a lot. For us, “getting out” is to do outdoor stuff… hike the dogs (currently, our “short” hikes are around 6 miles a day, and long hikes 15), bike around, kayak. Those kinds of things. So, while we couldn’t go out to eat or shop, we didn’t really do that often anyhow (I also turned into this sort of small-space master chef, who I had no idea existed inside of me!), and the things we did love had no restriction. So, in my mind- so far, so good. I just tried not to turn on the news too often, or listen to our relatively crazy neighbor from New Yawk.
Then things took a bit of a twist. This little thing called “travel restrictions” crept in. States shutting down borders, people being required to stay in place. This also coincided with another little twist. All campgrounds in South Carolina (and pretty much the rest of the U.S.) were to shut down, as they were deemed non-essential. Side bar: There was a lot of back and forth state to state around full-time campers (i.e. us) that “the people in charge” didn’t realize… such as, the fact that we exist- and need a place somewhere to call home. This didn’t shake out until after we left. Currently, campgrounds are closed, except to full timers who are able to hunker down and stay as needed.
So here we found ourselves, stuck, but not allowed to be stuck- because we had to leave. And for a third and final twist, because, why not? We didn’t (and still don’t) have a truck capable of hauling our 5th wheel “home.” In the midst of selling our house and trying to get out of MinneSNOWta before the snow actually began to fly (trapping us there with no home), we decided we weren’t going to get a truck until summer, and just use a hauling company to move our rig wherever we needed it to go. Under normal circumstances, this wasn’t a big deal. Just a little hectic coordinating everything, but otherwise, it was fine. Well friends, this wasn’t a normal circumstance in any way, shape or form. So, trying not to panic, we contacted the company who hauled the camper from Indiana to Tennessee (and subsequent moves over the next few months). Jeff, the head honcho, and hauler said it wouldn’t be a problem. Ok. Good. We should be set. But, pandemics typically get worse before they get better, and this was no exception. Each day, more restrictions. Each day, more panic on behalf of the world. Each day, something else shut down. You know what you don’t need when you are stressed out? More stress. You know what you get when you are stressed out? More stress. Our friend Jeff wasn’t responding to my phone calls or text messages. Yes friends. I thought he had perished. So, I went a little bit off the deep end. He was literally the only one willing to take the risk picking up our camper and haul it 18 hours back to Wisconsin, and he went AWOL. I messaged his wife on Facebook. Nothing. I messaged his son on there as well. (How I am able to find people so quickly is a story for another time, but yes, I should work for the FBI). And so it was. His whole family, in my mind, was presumed dead. And we were forever stuck in a state that was shut down, beaches included. Spoiler alert, he wasn’t dead. But his phone was. He was communicating via email (doh- the one method of communication I DIDN’T try). Sheepishly, I asked him to just erase my hysterical voicemails and text messages, and DON’T JUDGE ME. It was fine, he was fine and we were still on- though he did tell me we were the one exception he was making for transport, as he had cancelled all of his other freights. That made me feel good that he knew our situation and still wanted to help, but also made me feel incredibly guilty that he now had to sleep in his truck (instead of a hotel), was exposing himself to the virus each time he gassed up, which was often, and couldn’t grab food (since he couldn’t go through the drive through with our camper hooked up to his truck). But my lord, bless him for helping us.
April 1st, transport day, was upon us. And I found myself feeling the normal feelings- the ones where I was excited to get to the next place, but now that I got to know South Carolina, was sad that we were leaving… leaving the beach, the sun, the south. Those feelings can get a little overwhelming. I had to tell myself that it wasn’t goodbye, it was good night, and that if I really wanted to, I could always come back. I also had to tackle the arduous “event” that is packing up the camper. Living this lifestyle has taught me that nothing is permanent. When you get ready to move your whip, you have to pack every single thing up. That means, everything off the counters, out of the cabinets. Everything has to be locked down. Including the plate inside your microwave- I have handled that thing more in the last few months than I did the one in my home the entire time I lived there. Fridges and freezer emptied and defrosted. Thankfully, I created a checklist (ahem because one time I may or may not have forgotten to take the coffee cup still-full-of-coffee off the counter and we locked up shop and took off, but we don’t talk about that… RIP clean carpet). This time though, we had to pack the camper, and pack all of our stuff for the next few days that we needed- since we would be getting back to Wisconsin before the camper did. Folks, there were a lot of checklists bouncing around the Meyers casita.
Jeff showed up, not a minute late, hooked up the camper, and off we were to embark on our nearly full-day road trip “home.” If you know me, you know I somehow get involved in some pretty wild road trip situations (picking up our youngest dog-son Arnie is one particular story… and the reason I will never rent from Enterprise, and also never drive in Chicago again). This story isn’t quite as wild (thank the dear lord for that), but one thing I knew was that we didn’t have a lot of options on the way- so we had to gas up, bring disinfecting wipes, get snacks prepared ahead of time to take with us, and oh yes… prepare to sleep in the truck. One positive out of all of this is that since so many people weren’t on the roads, not only did we make better time, we also only saw 2 police officers the entire thousand plus mile trip (what? I wasn’t speeding. Just an observation…). I started the first leg while Justin worked, which meant I got to drive one last time through the Smoky Mountains. And lemme tell you this. I effin love driving in the mountains. Unfortunately for my passengers, it might feel a little like you might, well, like you might die. On more than a handful of occasions Justin politely reminded me that “we have precious cargo in the car.” Mario Kart adventure aside, I drove until 4:30 and Justin took over. It was a mundane but pretty drive. We only stopped to fuel up and feed the pups, making it to Illinois quickly. It was now 9:45 p.m., and J$ was getting tired (yes, that is his nickname). I took over and at 11 or so we were going to hit some kind of stopped traffic. Deciding it was time to take a break, we pulled into a truck stop to tuck away for the night. Then I realized, I forgot the blankets and pillows. Good. So, we reclined the seats and tried to sleep as best we could. 1:30 a.m. rolled around, and I was freezing. And wide awake. It was still a 5-6 hour drive, but I couldn’t just sit there in the cold- thinking about how we would likely have had the windows open if we were still down south, but WHATEVER. So I decided I would drive. Thankfully, I had my 2 best friends, Karen Kilgariff and Georgia Hardstark telling me grim murder stories to keep me awake (not kidding- My Favorite Murder is the BEST podcast alive). I know I said I would never drive through Chicago again, but when you hit the city at 3:30 in the morning amidst a shut down, you whip through pretty quick. It was this time that I really had to dig deep and channel my inner college-aged self and all-nighters. I was getting tired, but we were so close. 3 hours close (this appears “close” when you are slightly delusional from tiredness). I told myself that was only 3 episodes of the podcast. I was reasoning my driving the same way I reason cardio (20 minutes is only 5 minutes, 4 times. It is also only 5 songs). At 5, I caved. I needed coffee. Know what’s fun? Trying to find a place that still sells that with this mayhem going on. Never fear, Mickey D’s pulled through and I throttled that caffeine. And still, I was tired. Tired, but trucking on. I watched the most beautiful sunrise, and pulled into the driveway at 7. And guess what? I wasn’t tired- like all day not tired. Go figure.
So, what driveway did I pull into? Fair question. We are incredibly fortunate when we visit Justin’s family in Wisconsin to be able to stay at Gramma Dolly’s house. Gramma Dolly is now in a home, which I hate- we used to stay with her, and she is an absolute riot. This time though, it was a relief- we had 14 days of quarantining to do.
And so, here we sit. We have a location that we will be heading to soon. And we can’t wait. It’s completely open and isolated. The future for us, and of course so many, is uncertain. But, if I know one thing, it’s this… we lived in a camper during the weirdest, wildest pandemic with the rest of the world. If you would have told me this would be our experience as first time RV-ers, I likely would have laughed and kept drinking my wine. But, it happened and I feel safer and more secure than I did in my old home, being mobile definitely has its advantages. For that I am thankful and grateful.
Cheers and stay healthy, safe, and quarantined (but get outside!)!
Nikki
#MeyersGoMobile #CampingAndCorona #FullTimeCampers #HappyCampers
Expedition: Happiness (and the art of wandering) 