Sorry for the silence of late everyone - life seems to have got in the way! Above all, we recently came back from a lovely 10 days in soggy Cornwall, which was a much needed tonic for us all. Ok, it would have been nice if the sun had come out a bit more, but really the rain was just an excuse to don wellies and raincoat and splash around in puddles and go head to head with the wind on the cliff tops :)
And then we came back, and well, you know what it's like when you come back from hols… big downer, back to reality and all that. Except this time it was like coming back to a life which we hadn't quite realised was SO difficult. We knew things were tough, in many ways, but a break away peeled the scales away from our eyes and made us see things a little clearer. And with that, it has made us think a bit more about where we want to be in life.
Ooh big questions huh? Yep.
Amusingly, the lovely Lucy at Dreaming Aloud just posted a link which kind of sums it up (or some of it at least): Less Work, More Living, summed up in a nutshell as "Earn less, spend less, emit and degrade less". It's what we strived for right from the start of our adventure, when we set off in Rona (our camper) back in 2008. But life changes and gradually you sink back into the old ways, accumulate things again, strive for more and ultimately end up needing more money for it all.
With our boat we hoped to create a home for our family. But in order to achieve that we will be tied down to hard slog for the next ten years at least - and the irony is by doing that we also make a choice between making a home and making a family, because any time we do have (i.e. weekends) must be spent either working on the boat or enjoying time with each other. You could say we could try half-and-half, but believe me, it doesn't work out that way!
So, another turning point. In a radical shift away from traditional views of "hearth and home", we are now looking at creating a home within ourselves and carrying it wherever the wind blows us. Sure, it's nice to have pretty things and familiar things all around: bookshelves groaning, our trusty range bubbling away all manner of goodies; our own bed (which actually isn't so comfortable!) and so on. But at the end of the day things don't matter, do they? They just reflect what's inside us (or should). What if we were to look to the light within instead; the source of our personalities and dreams and feelings?
I hope we can learn to shine enough as individuals and as a family to be able to create "home" wherever we might require it, and at any time it is needed. They say "home is where the heart is" - and we're taking that in its most literal reading!
When we first started travelling in our van back in 2008, it soon became apparent that people really struggled to categorise us. Otherwise middle class, well-educated, and both working in revered sectors - and yet living in a van (even "camper was stretching it a bit far as it was basically a souped-up old Renault Master). We didn't even have a fixed site to call our own, or a "proper home" to retire to when it all got too much.
Well I could write a whole book on perceptions and stereotypes but what particularly amuses me are the reactions we've garnered over the years when we divulge we have no address.
"But how do you get post?" is my favourite query, usually accompanied by an expression more suited to news that martians have just landed.
The fact is, I love not having an address. It lends a sense of anonymity and freedom: above all we don't have the dread of bills, official notices and junk mail dropping onto the door mat, for which I am endlessly grateful.
Admittedly life on the boat provides a much easier solution to the issue, as we can appease people (or confuse them) with our mooring address. Some folks really don't like you not being able to give an address of some sort (it takes them out of their comfort zone) - and I'm not talking about people who want to send us birthday cards. So we give them the mooring address (where we may or may not be) and they're happy. Ish.
The other day I had to register with a doctor for the first time in a while and when I told the receptionist I couldn't receive mail at our mooring address, she stared at me and blustered "But what if we need to contact you urgently?". Er, phone me? And then, "What if we have to send you a hospital referral letter or something?", to which I just gaped at her completely nonplussed.
Our society has become so complacent, comfortable and myopic that we can't see beyond the ends of our own noses any more, and sometimes not even that!
What intrigues me most of all, though, is the utter hopelessness of our bureaucratic system in dealing with such a demographic as ours. We are, to all intents and purposes, "homeless", which is utterly bonkers.
The idea that you need an "address" to be a valid citizen of this country - regardless of how you otherwise contribute to society or to the economy etc etc - simply proves that we have a pretty crazy system in charge. And such a very British one at that - like having your status calculated from the car you drive or the clothes you wear. It makes me think of the Vernon family in Harry Potter. In which case, call me a witch any day (and your owl will find the boat if you want to send me a letter).
