I wonder if there is a medical term for the condition of being afraid of idleness. And if so, whether I “suffer” from it? Tuesday as we were driving back from Hudson I realized that in five years we have never been idle. We have either had a volunteer gig like this — where we have some sort of daily duties, or we have been in unfamiliar places and spent our time exploring and getting to the place. We have never been in a place long enough that we we just “being.”
I say this because I have been carrying around watercolor supplies in the basement of the RV for 5 years and I keep telling myself “when I have more time I’m going to get them out and try my hand” and here we are finishing up our 5th year on the road, about to start our 6th and I still haven’t gotten them out of the storage tub!
This is not in the manner of a complaint. It’s merely an observation. My life is my own and I can easily change it. Our life is our own. And for five years I haven’t seen fit to change it. Neither have I been thinking the same thoughts.
When we started out we were exploring and haphazardly looking to see whether there was a different place we’d choose to settle into for the remainder of our retirement. We had thought about volunteering during retirement but the opportunity to try our hand at it pretty much just fell into our lap. We never applied for our first gig here at Highland Ridge — it was suggested to us by another camper. Before we knew it we’d made the transition from camper to camp host and nothing has been quite the same since.
We finished up here and went West for a nearly year long (10 month) gig with the USFS and we burnt out on that one. Great Job. Great People. We just stayed for a little longer than we had energy to drive us. And after that we did nothing for two years. That is, if nothing is continuing our journey hither and yon around the U.S.
When we aren’t volunteering it only seems right that we take time to explore our area, and we have enjoyed doing that. Knowing that there’s a blog sitting here waiting to be spoken to is a sort of pressure, but then I could decide to post only on alternate days, or only weekly and take the pressure off myself — if indeed it really is pressure. Mostly it’s just me being me. And so, the pressure to go exploring isn’t really pressure — it’s just me making excuses for my own behavior; I do that well, don’t I!
This topic has arisen because as I’ve expressed before we have an invite to return next year. Rather than give a definitive answer now, we’ve said we’ll call come the end of December and let them know for sure; we think we are returning, but we want some time away from here before we make a decision. Withour Grand-One’s wedding at the beginning of the season next year, and our desire to replace the flooring in Serendipity the combination of being here and not having to pay camping fees offers a double whammy in favor of returning.
But we aren’t getting any younger and each year, each week, each day, each hour that passes we’ll never have a chance to relive; our time on this earth is limited: if there’s something I still really want to do it makes sense that I get on with it. Furthermore, I accept (as if it were a choice) that a certain part of my get-up-and-go has gotten-up-and-gone….
I’m not sure what we’ll do about next summer. We have months ahead to consider it. Then again, I’m not sure I actually want the option of having nothing to do. I’ve never done that. I’m always on the go. Either that, or sleeping.
So, thanks for stopping and I guess today’s post is about realizing maybe we haven’t been doing exactly what we thought we were doing for the last five years. I’m not sure. But we’ll figure it out as we go through this Life Unscripted.