There I sat, on my parent’s brisk toilet the day after Christmas, unwrapping a second pregnancy test for good measure. (Exactly how I imagined holidays in my mid-thirties). How wild would this be? Adam and I aren’t even 48 hours into our engagement and a frickin’ baby?! So much for an engagement party with the build-your-own tequila station I dreamt of last night…
At that moment, I knew that this was not how I wanted to remember the space, to see it as his abandoned life. I did not want to see it as what he left behind.
Prior to being partially de-pantsed by a kangaroo (while commando) or fleeing fist-sized spiders in Tasmania, I fought long work weeks. At one point, my most significant daily inconvenience was pushing through rush hour traffic in Chicago, Milwaukee, or Madison. Fast forward a month and inconvenience looked like me running down a trail in Glacier National Park as some sort of Condor or Vulture swooped at me with what must have been a six-foot wingspan. There I was, blowing a whistle and waving a stick in the air for “protection” like an imbecile. I was very new at outdoor living.
I’ve always been a bit of an extremist. Until recently, I left little space for gray areas. I suppose those closest to me would say that I don’t half-ass anything, which has afforded me many opportunities while also laying the foundation for what folks now call “burnout.” My loved ones would also probably acknowledge that, though the last few years have brought life lessons to show me the gradient, I’m not completely over the hump of the all-or-nothing mindset.
For example, late in 2014 I started feeling like I needed a change. So, I began silently scheming. Come June of 2015, I rid myself of most of my belongings. I left my familiar life close to my roots to embark on a solo journey around the western states, living in a tent. If you know me, you likely know this story. Unbeknownst to me, three and a half years of continuous travel would follow this departure. Whatever prompted this ambition and gumption to initiate and sustain a lifestyle change like this is a mystery to me. However, I suspect this mystery may also be the birthplace of my emotional distress. But let’s back up a bit to my earlier years.
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I had been traveling for over three years. First, living in a tent in National Parks, then my SUV in Moab, UT, and wherever I sprawled out to from there.…