Irksome as it may be to those in my life, I have a penchant for letting things unfold as they may. Imagine going on a 3 week trip with someone who has used a stack of post-it notes to plan the itinerary. Now imagine, I’m the one that hides the post-it notes.

There are downsides: it can be expensive in a world of early deals. Sometimes I find myself in sticky situations because I hadn’t looked far enough ahead. But it is just not in my nature.

Thanks to Jennifer Goodson for taking this shot. When you travel alone, you don't often get great photos of yourself!

Thanks to Jennifer Goodson for taking this shot. When you travel alone, you don’t often get great photos of yourself!

So here I am, over a month since I announced to my business partner and family, “Hey, I’m going to hop on the Vespa and maybe ride across the country.” The route was decided on the fly, sometimes after an argument with the GPS chick, and it could change at any moment. I’ve seen stunning beauty and hilarious kitsch. The Vespa performed better than I could have imagined and the only issue was minor in and of itself, just happened at the most inopportune time. What was I going to do, mope? No, deal with it, roll with the punches and see what happens.

Do I really only need the Vespa and my laptop? (And Purl!) While those are shorthand for “minimal amount of possessions”, my conclusion is that I am just fine with what I’ve got. However, the desire for a mobile or tiny home has only grown. The only thing bothering me about the journey is actually packing and unpacking nearly daily. Silly, as it’s not much, but being able to leave things for more than a day is the only missing piece.

My conclusion is that a small mobile home, with the Vespa as the daily transportation, truly is my idea of bliss. I’ve been leaning that way for a few years and this trip has made it very clear. Our week in the (rather large) home in NoCal also confirmed that I just don’t like living with a lot of space. For me, it’s not just the wastefulness of it, although that plays a part, but it is also that it encumbers you. Whether my tiny apartment, the Vespa and a small motel room, or now a mobile home, my living space is chosen not for what it is, but what I then have access to. I don’t live IN my space, rather, it is the resting spot. I live IN the world around me.

My ultimate dream mobile home is the Tonke Fieldsleeper. It even has a Vespa garage! However, they cost plenty and its not a financial commitment I’m ready to make as we grow our business. So I’m snatching up a test unit. A motorhome of similar size and amenities that can hold the Vespa on a trailer. I need to learn to take care of the mobile-ness of it all, all by myself. There will be a learning curve, but I’m up for the challenge.

I’m not giving up my Brooklyn apartment nor the freedom to have that place be one of my resting spots, as there are many upsides to maintaining it. But you are more likely to find me out on the road than at 34, I’m pretty sure. My heart is “out there” and wanting to keep my eyes on the expansive horizon. I’ve got the wanderlust something fierce, and I’m ready to roll with it… whether on 2 wheels or 6.