So, progression has been slow. We’ve got temporary lodgings with family whilst we fit out the vanosaurus (I know) with lots of cool stuff. Now, lodging with family can, at times, be tricky, but these lodgings aren’t all that bad. There’s a puppy who likes weeing on things, a borrowed hamster/pigeon duo (both a bit of a flight risk), and my big brother, who bakes.
Slow progression on the van-dwelling front, sure, but our new home-to-be is still teaching us a thing or two. “Chloe, just slow the hell down would you?” I heard the Master whisper to me this afternoon through three-hundred-thousand revs. It’s not a speed machine, that’s for certain. And that’s ok. We all need to take it down a notch or two, me most of all. The Renault is slowly beginning to teach me that it’s ok not to drive at warp-speed when I’ve run out of milk; that episode of Grey’s Anatomy isn’t going anywhere. And I think this lesson is spilling out into areas of my life beyond the driving seat (I actually watched a toaster today, in quiet contemplation). It’s like a question one of my favourite rock-star yogis asks: “What would happen if we stopped pursuing happiness and slowed down enough for it to catch up?”
Yeah. What would happen? Well, until I start my new job, it’s currently looking a bit like Grey’s Anatomy, baked goods, and a puppy on my lap, that’s what.