I wrote a poem. Travel has a way of inspiring creativity. Sometimes it comes out in poem form. This nonsense is for all the van dwellers, digital nomads, entrepreneurs, and dreamers of the world.
We chase because we love to run.
Is this REALLY what we feared?
Cold toes, rolled clothes, warm beers
Unrefrigerated eggs and unserviced campsites
Where your neighbours roll down their windows to say goodmorning
Is this what we were afraid of?
People saying “you’re life looks nice on Instagram but what’s it like really?”
Well, today, my life is today
And for now at least that’s ok
Is this what all those friendly warnings were about?
Trading steady income for steady
Swapping a series of blind lefts
Go left, go left, go left. Go left!
For one continuous, smooth right
Because I can tell you, I still sleep well at night
Yes, even occasionally in the glow of Walmart’s parking lot lights
Is that what we were avoiding?
Jellyfish tentacles and bumblebee butts
We picked up a hitchhiking porcupine and drove him all the way across Nova Scotia and he never quilled us once.
Sometimes you’ve gotta tickle the belly of the dangerous beast
How else will you know how his fur feels?
We didn’t quit
We signed up
We haven’t slowed down
We’re picking up speed every. Single. Day.
And it may not feel fast
But second gear sounds so good with your head out the window
So that’s the song we weren’t to sing?
The tiny bell forbade to ring?
From now on, I am going to shake it by its yoke, screaming
“I love the sound of this fucking thing!” The only question now remains:
What will you do with your best days?