On Coincidence
The end of this week will mark almost one month on the road of my remote work van life tour. It stops me in my tracks to remember how I was counting down the days, impatiently in 110 degree heat, to leave Phoenix, frustrated by how behind schedule Tommy Camper Vans was. But here I am, almost 30 sleeps and 3,000 miles later.
Life, even when you are anticipating a big event, speeds on faster every year.
To review, my mission has been to reflect on whether it may be time to leave Arizona, or at least Phoenix.
I have no conclusions yet. But I’ve had some amazing conversations that have given me time to reflect on coincidence, on privilege and on nihilism.
On Coincidence
Two days in to the trip, in Durango, I had a most amazing experience, which gave me the feeling that the universe was talking to me. See this video about that.
I spent the first two days of the week struggling to get a good Internet signal so I could be on my work calls, Ellie got diarrhea, I had to find a veterinarian, I was trying to fix little things in the van and I was getting used to the new reality of living in this small space. I was deeply frustrated and despondent, despite knowing that this too would pass.
Yet, as if a message from a higher power, on my second evening in Durango I ran in to two comfortably familiar people that I know from the Phoenix political and sustainability communities. Not only did I see friendly faces, but they invited me to come visit their 22-acre property the next day, just outside of town. There I used the office they had built in the attic of their old barn to host my calls for the day, to catch up on work with full Internet signal and to just get a breath. I had a chance to visit with their sheep and llamas, to see the Animas River along their property and to give Ellie a break from the van.
This couple had moved to Durango part time a few years ago. Currently, they are renting out the larger home on the property to tourists and they are living in their Airstream while they build a smaller, downsized home for themselves. Meanwhile, their son and his partner built a tiny home on the property, and they are all working busily to create a shared vision for a place to live.
The husband had run for the Corporation Commission some years prior, and the wife used to own a business in Phoenix. I could not have asked for a better connection, not only at a time when I was in need of friendly faces, but also to fit so perfectly in to the theme of this entire series.
They both considered the same questions I had: Is it wise to stay in Phoenix? How can one contribute to one’s community without all of the hubbub of the political scene? Are they trading one set of climate change problems for another?
After we all finished our work for the day, we enjoyed salmon, a mixed green salad and dinner in front of the airstream, surrounded by the detritus of construction and the red-green mesas staring in to the setting sun across the Animas River from us.
I’m a naturally skeptical person, both of religion and vague spiritualism, both of which too often are about selling something.
Yet I’ve seldom in my life had such a strong feeling that I was meant to run in to these folks. They gave me a break, gave me insight and sent me off on my journey feeling renewed.
You couldn’t write a better script.
