Why we’re Selling Our Home and Moving into an RV full-time
When doubt began to rear its ugly head…
Questions started rolling in. Are we sure moving into an RV full-time is for us? What if we end up hating this lifestyle? How crazy does our family think we are? How will we ever find neighbors as good as the ones we have now? Will we lose our sense of community? Should we just rent the house our instead of selling it? Will we want to strangle each other living in such a small space?
I could go on and on, but you probably get the point.
We decided it was beneficial for us to compile a list of why we want to live in an RV full-time in the event our doubts would resurface.
Why we want to move into an RV full-time
- Be outside more
- Experience new places in a way that’s more than a vacation
- Meet new people who share the same lifestyle
- Ride our bikes year-round and explore new trail systems
- Avoid feeling like we’re working towards the weekend or retirement and live in the moment
- Save more money and have less expenses associated with owning a home
- Find more time for adventure by having fewer tasks associated with owning a house (cleaning, mowing, yard work)
- Minimize the amount of stuff we own and appreciate the things we do have
- Enjoy the remoteness of BLM land and the beauty of our country – waking up to new views out of our window
- Immerse ourselves in cool towns and hang with the locals
For us, success in this lifestyle simply means we’re living how we want to.
Would moving into an RV full-time be the only way we could ever achieve all of this? Heck no! However, we don’t want to spend our lives wondering what if we never tried?
I am writing this post as we travel to Asheville, NC, for a mountain bike trip with our friends, Rob + Anna (otherwise known as Raw Banana). Anna kindly proofread this post (I believe her Engrish is better than mine). I’ll leave you with her favorite poem, The Summer Day, which she shared with me.
Who made the swan, and the black bear?
Who made the grasshopper?
This grasshopper, I mean-
the one who has flung herself out of the grass,
the one who is eating sugar out of my hand,
who is moving her jaws back and forth instead of up and down-
who is gazing around with her enormous and complicated eyes.
Now she lifts her pale forearms and thoroughly washes her face.
Now she snaps her wings open, and floats away.
I don’t know exactly what a prayer is.
I do know how to pay attention, how to fall down
into the grass, how to kneel down in the grass,
how to be idle and blessed, how to stroll through the fields,
which is what I have been doing all day.
Tell me, what else should I have done?
Doesn’t everything die at last, and too soon?
Tell me, what is it you plan to do
with your one wild and precious life?
Written by Mary Oliver from New and Selected Poems, 1992
Beacon Press, Boston, MA