Already, in only my first seven posts, I’ve written of my aversion to both risk and change. So you won’t be surprised to learn that if I allow the thoughts to linger too long in my head, I could quite easily talk myself out of this big life-change of hitting the road. Why is it that road blocks–the things I fear and that keep me up at night–are so easy to focus on?
Fear is a funny thing isn’t it? And I’m not talking about physical fear. That’s an entirely different beast. Fear is all in your mind, yet fear is strong and tough in a way few things are. Here is the list of things I’m afraid of. Then we won’t talk about this again…at least not until I’m on the road and the only movement is forward.
- My stomach knots even as my fingers prepare to write this. My single biggest fear is that, after years of planning, preparation, downsizing and thinking of little else, I will hate it. Can’t really expand on this fear or I might cry.
- Things that go bump in the night. Like wild things, unsavory people. When I moved to New York City for college I never thought I’d adjust to the constant noise, no matter the hour. But I did. It wasn’t long before I slept through garbage trucks backing up in the middle of the night. And, when I moved into my house in Anchorage, I never thought I’d adjust to the whoosh of cars speeding by on one of the main thoroughfares half a block from my house. But I did. Now it serves as white noise which I hear and don’t hear all at the same time. RVing is a transient lifestyle. Moving every couple weeks means constantly adjusting to the sounds of new surroundings. So I’m a little scared it will prove difficult to get used to. Will I ever adjust or will my tendency toward vigilance always be in high gear?
- I’m a homebody and an introvert who feels out of whack if I’m away from home too long. Still, I find myself afraid of feeling lonely and isolated on the road.
- What if I’m boondocking in the middle of nowhere with no bars on the phone and no one around. And what if my tow vehicle breaks down? Really, what if? I feel like before heading out I should know the answer to that question and I just don’t.
- I have a dog and a cat. Those Backseat Drivers will be introduced in a future post. They are both old-ish (9 and 13, respectively) and sometimes I fear they won’t live to go on the road with me. Or, worse, I fear they will not be able to adjust to our lifestyle.
- My brain knows that a lot of people before me have figured out how to drive their rig. Still, I worry I won’t get the hang of driving a big beast, even if mine is half the size of the biggest ones out there. What if I’m the only person just too stupid and intimidated to get comfortable pulling a trailer? Fear is irrational and mental, I know, see paragraph number two. Still we fear what we fear.
- I fear I won’t be able to think up a cool name for my trailer. In fact, I’ll confess it here, it never even occurred to me to name the trailer (or the tow vehicle) until I saw other people had names for theirs. I briefly thought of Thing 1 and Thing 2 from Dr. Seuss but that’s silly. When I have the trailer and tow vehicle, I will take suggestions!
- It can be easy to forget, when I focus on the details of the transition but I started on this path to find more hours in the day to write. Sometimes, I fear that was only something I told myself about myself. And given the opportunity to prove it, I fear I might fail. What if I don’t write? What if I never write that publishable novel?
I have no doubt that if I lingered on this question, I would find a bucket’s worth of fears. But let’s leave it at eight. That’s plenty. What about you? What are your great fears? Or have you ever made a big change in your life only to discover it was the wrong move?