I gotta say, this new chapter living in the Scamp camper has been remarkably dazzling so far.
But last Monday I seriously crashed.
It was my intention to get from Vermont (leaving on Sep 28th), to pick up the Scamp camper in Minnesota Oct 1, test it out there for a few days, then make my way down to LA in time for my dear friend Carrie’s birthday dinner on October 14th.
I knew this timing was a reach given all of the stuff I had to figure out: To sort out the daily logistics of living much more primitively while also showing up for my online professional work.
Plus I had to cover that distance, mile by mile, to get to this end of the country.
But it was a big birthday Carrie was having, so I wanted to make it happen. That goal propelled me forward.
The goal also kept my adrenaline up, kept me peppy with eyes on the horizon.
However, when I arrived in LA on Monday afternoon, Oct 14th, I hit a wall.
It’s funny. It felt kinda like there was a literal wall at this end of the country and my car just smashed right into it, leaving me collapsed in a heap at this campsite.
Well, technically I didn’t collapse til Tuesday, after the Hollywood birthday dinner was over.
Tuesday afternoon I was suddenly so melancholy that I changed the camper dinette back into a bed and spent a few hours lying there, whimpering to myself about all that I’ve lost in this life.
I felt haunted by long-dead dreams of being a successful actor here in LA. I felt fresh sorrow for my relationship that had ended here. (I also felt a little haunted by the fact that I was staying at Malibu Creek State Park campsite where there was a murder last year.)
I felt all the old wailings of my younger self rising up as dramatically as a teenager’s devastation would.
It was surprising. I’ve been back here many, many times since I left acting and since that relationship ended, and not had this reaction.
Perhaps it’s something about how raw this new beginning is that brought it all back up. At times of big change, other times of big change are remembered by the body.
I knew there was little to “do” about it except ride it out.
Eventually, I took a shower. Got dressed. Tidied up a bit. Put on music. Danced it off.
Also, I find going over my finances really grounding in times of change. So I spread my budget notes out on the picnic table that’s beside the Scamp, under a gnarled old tree. Reviewed my spending and earnings. Looked at what I need for the coming weeks and months.
By nightfall, I was much repaired. By morning I was fresh and happy again.
It’s funny how those crashes happen, isn’t it? Like a visitor from the past showing up late and drunk at your door, wreaking havoc.
But time, tidying, music, movement, and budgeting sure do help put them back to bed.
Or at least most of them.