Why did I ever move to a “sleepy town” like Las Cruces?  The answer is complex – I was looking for something that I wanted to find.  The wide open spaces, the lure of “enchantment” in New Mexico, and just tired of the “white bread” midwest.

My marriage had dissolved long ago, I had no children, my parents were both gone.  There was no reason to stay in Indianapolis.  I was alone in a big city.  Now I’m alone in a sleepy little town.  It’s taken me years to learn that one’s true home isn’t a physical location – it’s inside your heart.  My heart yearns for the beauty and wonder of new experiences – where I’m not a sedentary observer, but a true part of the beauty and landscape.

I know it’s coming, but I’m impatient having spent summers gathering glimpses of a life spent exploring and photographing.  Certain memories comfort me – like a memory of a campground high above the town of Moab, Utah where I was surrounded by a cool breeze and a million stars as I stuck my head out the bedroom window of my former RV.

It seems I’ve always been somewhat hypnotized by the lure of the open road.  For some odd reason, I the most content and happy when I’m traveling (with Cali at my side).  Lately, I’ve been resentful of those spending their time chasing their dreams on the “highway of life.”  A careful and cautious person (and solely reliant upon myself – i.e. no one is going to “bail me out” or “put me up” if I don’t have the means) I’ve felt I needed to “earn my way” (or my freedom) as you will…

Many people I know retired early (or just quit their jobs) to pursue a life full of adventure.  They either must be:  a.  more financially savvy, b.  independently wealthy, or c.  living on (or near) the “grid of life.”   Recently, someone in my RV group remarked that I was “well off financially.”  Uh, what’s your measure?  Yes, I’m going to retire July 1st and collect New Mexico teacher retirement.  Yes, I have some savings.  And yes, I’ve worked my “tail” off to get there.  I’ve worked in some way, shape, or form since I was sixteen.  On the advent of sixty, I think I’ve paid my dues and bought my freedom.

So now, I’m looking for something more “comfortable” than my 1985 Toyota Dolphin.  Something not too fancy, (but not too plain) where I can be comfortable watching sunrises and sunsets and hearing the pulse of nature.  I think about those out dreaming and exploring and I become depressed and jealous.

Watching this video today was strangely comforting and reaffirming.  I’m not alone in my desires and feelings.  It’s how I want to live my life.

I hear the road calling my name and know that the key to my happiness is in that experience…

Best wishes for a blessed, happy, and healthy New Year!