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Writer's pictureJacob Landers

What next..

It’s like I keep whittling my life away into nothing. Each strike of the blade, slivers of my life fall off into an abyss that is the world to me. As I write this, I have these flashbacks of the trip I just recovered from, the spots I stayed, the things I saw. I waited for years to take that trip and it led me back here, to Slo, and now I am faced with possibly leaving again, just 3 ½ months after returning.


I wonder if it’s self-fulfilling prophecy, like I created this with all my thoughts and some small actions. Maybe the actions weren’t small and have just seemed that way while performing them. One less job, one less employee, acquiring no shiny objects, not buying a house, each choice another section of road built to where I am now.


I’ve dreamed years over of the freedom of traveling, living amongst the woods and deserts, highways and empty back roads, seeing spots that less 10,000 people in the world have ever seen. I built the van, saved the money, took the trip. I set my life up for it, I put all that out into the universe and I got to live it, as short lived as it was. I found that without a job there was too much time on my hands and living like so for a year would have never worked without work. So home I came, and started off in another direction, searching for a property to buy to start building a homestead of sorts. Somewhere affordable, Arizona, Arkansas, somewhere with mountain biking trails.


I’ve been back now for 3 months and 22 days and it looks like I am needing to move out of my place, the one I hung on to for the 3 months while I was traveling. There is a backstory to needing to move out and I'm not sure if it’s worth going into. It’s a big backstory. But maybe I can give you the cliff notes.


Parents sell their mechanics business to a friend of mine. He buys the business and the building, there’s an apartment above it. I live in the apartment for a cut rate. He needs to move one of his employees in or the employee is going to move out of the area cause it’s so expensive to live on the Central Coast. He told me of his woes and related issues with her leaving. Asked me if I was willing to move, I said I’d rather not. Asked if he could bribe me, I said no thank you. Told him if he wants me to move out to tell me and I’ll be gone in 60 days. He said forget it. (cliff notes)


Now I’m not the type of friend to be ok with this. He needs this place for someone else besides me, it’s his place and he hasn’t asked me to move because of our friendship. If I was some random, he would have asked me to move. It’s possible his loyalty to me has stopped him from doing that. If he needs this place then I can’t stay here, that’s not who I am, that’s not the type of person I want to be. He probably should have never approached me about it in the first place cuz no matter how it works out, I now have to leave.


So now I think, is this all be design? Have I set up the universe to feed me this cuz it’s what I’ve been working towards for years now. Like I have been giving so much power and thought and moves into this that even though I took the trip, found it wasn’t doable for not only lacking in a remote job but also being 47 years old and living out of a van down by the river is not the bee’s knees at this age. That the universe doesn’t know yet that I am trying to shift into another direction and it’s still pushing me in the previous one? Like is that even a thing, is that even possible? Does the universe even listen to us, can we even create our lives like that?


Finding out the predicament of needing to move yesterday then trying to get my head wrapped around it – needless to say I didn’t sleep well last night and woke this morning to look through Craigslist ads. San Luis Obispo (stupidly expensive), Austin, Bentonville, Brooklyn, I guess I can say at least my search has been narrowed to this which is nice. I did like Baton Rouge when I took my trip, but the humidity there is fucked.


Along with everything that comes up with needing to move and not really feeling secure in my life as it is, somehow, I’ve some hope attached to it. This is a hard one to stay positive about. I’ve some hope in the possibilities and a bit of freedom in the surrender when I accept what is happening. There is some whimsy and joy when I gain this perception; in the cracks of the fear that cover this landscape is where it lives. The cracks are small to my feeble sight and that is only cuz I cannot see the depth of them. Maybe this is my beginning, this is where it all changes and not that a happiness is around the corner (I am happy now) but a different life awaits me. Now all the same feelings and thoughts and ideas are forming again, the same ones I had right before my trip. I admire those who have been grounded in their life, the only time I was ever grounded is when I was raising Delaiah, that was the only time I ever knew where I was supposed to be.

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