This week lightning struck a tree just feet away from the hood of the van while we were sleeping. We couldn’t see much in the middle of the night, but when I woke up the next morning I smelled fresh pine. I remember thinking “how nice,” before sliding open the door to see why. There was a tree blocking our path out of the campsite. 

Just a few days before, I spent an hour outside journaling about all the ways I have changed in the last 3 years on the road. Not freaking out instantly about this tree is the most obvious of those shifts. If this happened before van life, I would have created a rule that did not serve me. Something like no camping too close to trees or another ridiculous standard that made my life a lot harder despite the intent on making me safe. I’d tell the story every time someone suggested camping, too. 

Another observable shift in my beliefs that was made clear by my wild week is that I remember in real time that everything is temporary in this life. Even the living part. Whether it’s getting through a “feels like 100 degrees” kind of day or waking up with the dread of depression, I have become my own voice of reason. I can be the one who reminds me “it’s just one day” or “this is temporary” instead of panicking. For me, the one that kicks in right when my fight or flight used to is one of the most powerful internal monologues. I feel relieved every time it says “you know more than you think you do” when it used to just scream bloody murder. 

What’s most different is the fact that this inner voice has become more kind. If I got nothing else out of the last 3 years of van life, that was the best thing of all. 

I grew up in a family that often looked to rigor for resolution. We had to “get shit done” and be productive, but the reality is that kindness is the companion I needed to keep moving. I’ve done the beating myself up. I’ve talked down to myself, applied shame, and every other tactic you’ve seen a drill sergeant deploy to keep a troop on task. After 30 years of experience, I can confidently say it doesn’t work. It might work in the moment, but only leads to a buildup of dread and frustration. 

I am not a solider put here to march through this world. Neither are you. We don’t have to just keep marching to make the most of this one life we have. The trick - and the one everyone can learn from van life without subjecting yourself to the chaos - is to slow down. Look around. Be a little more kind to yourself and everyone else.