So, it’s been seventeen months now since Braden and I got back to Canada from our last trip in the van. As time ticked by we tried to convince ourselves we were content. And, for a while we were.

Last winter was great. We spent some much needed quality time with our families and enjoyed a true Canadian winter without having to get up in the dark every morning, scrape the ice off our windshield before heading to work, only to return home again in the dark. We got out on winter hikes with the best dog ever (here’s lookin’ at you, Guinness), enjoyed a hearty Christmas feast (though we wish more of our family would have come home to visit despite the stupid Covid recommendations…but anyway), visited Tremblant for some skiing and romantic alone time, hit the slopes and snowshoeing trails in BC, and even got out in the van before heading to work in April of this year. In short, we kept ourselves busy.

But now, winter is quickly descending. The days are getting shorter. With the land border closed until this week (November 7th, to be exact), but closed to us indefinitely, we thought we’d be staying put again this winter. Maybe we’d buy some property. We thought about driving across Canada in our little (uninsulated) home stopping at every steal of a deal house along the way until we found one that fit. Maybe we’d just buy some land an put a tiny home on it. Maybe we’d have babies.
We spent weeks searching for something we liked on Realtor.ca. Braden thought seriously about a fixer-upper cabin in the woods. That sounded to me like a sequel horror movie in the making: small town millenial goes on a murderous rampage, buries boyfriend under the floorboards of their dilapidated one room cabin. We thought maybe we’d get a mortgage and buy something as an investment property, but that would still leave us without our own accommodations in Canada in the middle of the winter, and we were getting tired of relying on family for a place to stay.

I thought we were stuck, out of options. That is, until I spoke with my dear friend Jackie who reminded me that Braden and I could still fly to Mexico until November 29th. It’d mean leaving the van behind, but if we wanted to escape from Canada (and our reasons for that are myriad) it could still be done. With that, a seed had been planted. I mentioned it to Braden and he too mulled it over thoughtfully.
During this time, we were also editing (for the bazillionth time) our eBook, for which we have been submitting publication queries and entries into non-fiction competitions. In the introduction, I found my answer. Like a ghost from adventures past, my own words came back to me in poignant relevancy:

“What happens when your whole being balks at the thought of monotony, when your body rejects it like a bad allergic reaction? For many, the overwhelming pressure to find well paying (though perhaps unfulfilling) work, to get married, to work, buy a house, to work, to have children, to work some more, doesn’t even feel like pressure. It is subliminal, expected, and it is acceptable. If you’re lucky, you can find work that allows you a little time away to relax, kick your feet up and look out over the water.

But for some – and as we’ve come to discover, this number is much higher than we could have imagined – the thought of living an ordinary life is so unendurable that something must be done. “What if there’s no such thing as reincarnation?” they think, “What if this is all we get?” And they think, and they think, and they think about this conundrum until the need to break out of the “same ol’ ” becomes so overwhelming that they do something crazy?”

My own voice in my head, sounding uncannily like a Peanuts character, screamed “THAT’S IT!” I knew what was missing! I missed that familiar old nest of snakes in my stomach that told me I was doing something exciting, something important, something worth doing. I missed adventure, and the thrill of the unknown. The reason I had been crying my eyes out about the prospect of staying in Canada and doing the “responsible” thing was because my whole being was balking at it; my body was rejecting it like a bad allergic reaction. It had all become very clear. Braden and I sat down and had a deep heart to heart. He still wasn’t sure this was such a good idea. But, he reasoned, the last time we went through with a “bad idea” we had the time of our lives. We had seen and done things that amazed us and fulfilled us in ways a good job never could. We had a life worth living!

And so, now, we’re at it again. A little differently this time, but the thrills feel the same, the stake just as high. And, this time I have a good feeling about the knot in my stomach. Deep in my heart, I truly believe - for the first time in nearly two years - everything will be alright.