Finding my rhythm on the road
Ever wondered what it’s like to live on the road?
Let me offer you a glimpse of my life in a van - a lifestyle that’s as exhilarating as it is challenging.
It’s been just over six months since I completed the conversion my van last summer and I had such grand visions of freedom and adventure. What I didn’t anticipate were the stumbling blocks along the way, such as having my windscreen smashed by youths in the middle of the night, and a few months later paying over £7k for a replacement engine and associated parts after mechanical failure.
I could never have anticipated just how long it would it take to find my rhythm and flow that would make van life sustainable for the long haul. It wasn’t something I could rush, so surrendering to the journey became my life lesson.
The first big road trip…
Over the last month, I left my cozy house sit in Surrey and made my way West for my first big road trip to explore the rugged coastline of South Wales. Only now am I beginning to glimpse what that elusive flow state could look like for me, what that rhythm could become.
Van life is an amplified version of regular life - the highs and the lows.
My senses are heightened and every little noise at night can set me off, peering out the windows to check that I'm safe. Yet at the same time, I'm much more immersed in the changing seasons all around me. The sunlight coming through the window, the times of the day when I need to put my lights on in the van. Positioning my van to get the most of the daylight or the view. I'm much more aware of my surroundings and in that way, I'm much more aware of myself and who I am in relation to the world around me.
I work as I travel, so creating a safe, settled, and productive work environment is crucial. But I noticed that when I was travelling and exploring, spending a night here and then traveling to another place, or seeing a friend here and there, it was very difficult to immerse myself in that space of creation. It was easy when I was delivering work that was very structured and didn't need deep thinking. But deeper work requires me to immerse myself to create from a grounded space, and that requires a nest of solitude.
I need to hunker down in one spot for a few days, not be moving around, not be up in my head, but be down deeper in my body, with a grounded sense of place. I haven't yet felt much of that when I've been on the road, and that's a critical part of the rhythm for me. In the last few days, I booked a little campsite and have barely left the van. It has been absolute bliss. It's not necessarily that I've been uber-productive, but I've had time to decompress, to ground, to reflect, and to write this blog post.
I wouldn't have had the mental space and presence to do that when I was moving so much. Having this nurturing, nourishing time in one spot has made me excited to hit the road again. Otherwise, I would have been overwhelmed with sensory overload. Travelling and exploring can quickly get too much if it's not properly calibrated at a pace that’s sustainable. The rhythm for me also includes checking the weather forecast and figuring out which are the better days for exploring and which are better for hunkering down to work when it's raining or overcast.
A photo taken by a friend on my first road trip in Wales
Living in a van requires constant planning and flexibility.
Where to do my washing—is there a laundrette in this town? Am I going to be in a remote village where there's a proper shop? I've only got a small fridge, so I have to factor in my food plan more carefully than if I were in a house. Other logistics, like topping up with water and making sure I've got enough battery power in my solar setup, especially during the winter months, are also crucial. It's a delicate balance but one that I've slowly started to master.
Balancing time between being on my own and being around people is also important. I've noticed it's not necessarily about hanging out and chatting, sometimes it's about sitting in a coffee shop, just being around other people's energy, even if I'm not talking to them. Or going to a local gym class and being in a room with other people all doing the same movements to the same beat of the music. That is often enough to give me the social boost and help me feel connected. But equally, I cherish the days spent in my little ‘hermit bubble’, where solitude allows me to reflect and grow.
It can be a delicate balance, getting it right—a balance that becomes more magnified in a life like this.
The small things I didn't notice when I was living in a house, especially when there were other people in the backdrop of my days, can sometimes mask feelings of discomfort. They can numb or be sources of avoidance for doing the inner work I know I need to do. You can't hide from that on the road, I have to face myself at every single moment.
Van life has been a huge teacher for me. There have been many trials and tribulations, and I still get a lot of anxiety at night when I'm not somewhere that I feel is absolutely safe. But as my confidence builds and I understand the ins and outs of this life on the road, the more I give myself permission to expand and live life the way I need to, not the way that makes sense to anybody else.
Van life has created a ripple effect on all areas of my life and it’s pushed me to face myself in ways I never did before. As I continue to find my rhythm, I'm excited to see where van life takes me next. Every day is a new adventure, a new lesson, and a step closer to living a life that feels authentically mine.
Here’s to the open road and the endless possibilities it brings!
