An Exploration of the Self: A Partnership with Dave and Matt Vans

Expanding within ourselves and out in the world

For those of you who have been requesting our itinerary, I’ve done my best to link it below using my journal entries.

On April 1st, Bri and I landed in Gypsum, Colorado to start our van life adventure for the next thirty days. This residency was formulated in partnership with Dave and Matt Vans to bring our creative practice on the road— while pushing our limits on space, innovation, and minimalism.

What lies beneath when we strip back the layers and are left with essentials? What emerges at the surface when we exhaust our mind and bodies with the bold curiosity and awe that grandiose spaces bring? What happens when we mirror this space in our lives?

Though both of us consider ourselves to be avid campers and travelers, neither of us had ever traveled through this medium. Staying in tents, hostels, car camping or even hotels can all hold such different encounters, and the van is no exception. We underestimated how lovely it would be to have both the magnificence of the world at your door each morning, alongside the mobility and ease of heading to a new location so swiftly. We had the freedom of the open night sky above our heads for evening campfires and day hike exploration, and the comfort of crawling into a warm, secure bed when our bodies grew eager for rest.

As two women who enjoy a vacation of investigation, we want to encourage others to find ways of travel that empower, challenge and excite them. While both Bri and I feel pretty comfortable traveling at this point in our lives, we are also not naive to the fact that women should be aware and work towards preventive safety measures while entering any new environment. One of the most common questions other women asked us during the trip was, “Aren’t you ever scared out there all alone?” Empowering women to take up their space in this world is something we are both passionate about, and it goes for travel as well. The more you push yourself into discomfort, the more you begin to trust your ability to keep yourself safe.

8 Miles in at the Colorado River overlook, Grand Canyon. A storm was moving in as we watched it color the sky purple. Had to get moving quickly though, because we had a strenuous 7 mile climb back out of the canyon

The last two years of my life have been dedicated to taking control of my mental and emotional health. Many of us ignore our mind-health for many reasons; the stigma surrounding it, shame, fear, lack of support or resources. When quarantine began, I was at a breaking point. I recognized that I needed to finally come face to face with my challenges and seek the support I so deeply needed. I no longer wanted to be defined by the anxiety and depression that seemed to rule my life. Self examination and investigation came to the forefront. This van trip was a remarkable opportunity for my career and time adventuring with someone I cherish, but also a bit more. Time to step away, peel back the layers, and put all of my healing work to the test. This would be the first time out of my heavy lockdown environment in nearly a year and a half…with my routines off, challenges thrown in, and others to consider. How will I show up each day? How does dropping in to the present moment change my thought process and innovation?

Have you ever read, ‘The Power of Now’?

It emphasizes the mind being a survival machine which obsessively stores, gathers and analyzes information. This becomes a problem when we are spending time waiting, analyzing, worrying, and anxiously obsessing over the past or future. It robs us of the one and only important experience of our lifetime: the Now. Travel is essentially the ideal experiment for this.

**Camping on BLM outside of Sand Dunes National Park in Colorado. Linds, Bri and I made a curry dinner and watched the most beautiful sunset**

Here’s the thing about wide open spaces: They’ll always welcome you. But you have to be willing to take it.

Chronic anxiety will accompany you everywhere; whether you’re on a road trip of a lifetime with your best friend, or home alone in your bed. Acceptance is first, working through it comes next. One of the most liberating realizations of this trip was observing my healing growth play out in real-time. Meeting the new parts of myself I hadn’t quite recognized yet. You can do the yoga, you can commit to the meditation and breath work practice….you can journal, and do therapy and read the self-discovery books. But what matters is the intentional implementation of them, consistently-no matter where you are. And what’s more important…. is not using them as a tool to outrun. Without the numbing sensations of overworking, social media connection, or just downright distraction…this experience forced us to sit and have a good hard look at the things we had been running from. Wide open spaces say, ‘stop and sit with me. revel in the moment.’

Charcoal studies at our BLM campsite in Colorado, on day 28 of the trip. We were in a completely secluded area, next to the most beautiful stream. It was a full moon that night, and we stayed up for a end-of-trip fire ceremony, where we tossed writt… — Charcoal studies at our BLM campsite in Colorado, on day 28 of the trip. We were in a completely secluded area, next to the most beautiful stream. It was a full moon that night, and we stayed up for a end-of-trip fire ceremony, where we tossed written narratives that were holding us back into the campfire.

Camping and backpacking can be a great check-in that forces us to consider how we are operating in our daily lives. How capable are we with rooting through discomfort? Of new patterns, experiences, people and thought processes? How adaptable are we when things arise and plans change? Where do our thoughts go when we are immersed with no distraction? And perhaps most of all, I believe travel brings to the surface all that we struggle with in terms of being one with the present. Are you here in your body paying attention? Or are you somewhere else?

“I’m here, with the charcoal between my fingers. Leaves crunch beneath my bare feet and I tune in to the running water in front of me. The sensations in my body mirror the world around me, if I’m just willing to sit and observe.”

A rare photo of Bri and I together on a trail! 7 miles in on the Fairyland Loop in Bryce Canyon

“My need for control began to thin the more space I had”

By day ten of the trip, we were finally able to adjust fully. This, in turn, allowed us both to wake up each day with a fresh start. Some days we hiked 13 miles and sketched until we couldn’t anymore-- others we slept in and allowed our bodies to rest from the day before. We witnessed the diversity in landscape with each new place we drove, and were given the gift of time to process it. We took time to journal, to reflect, to paint. We had life realizations on cliffsides and held each other’s hands when we needed reassurance. We laughed when getting a bit lost rather than uptight. We communicated when we felt uneasy or frustrated. We committed to being aware...of both one another and ourselves.

The daily encounters of the van allowed me to practice what I preach. To live what I already know. I worked incredibly hard to absorb; to not let this trip become just another task on a list.

**Bri against a stunning backdrop of the Fairyland Trail, 8 miles deep in Bryce Canyon National Park**

**With no service most nights, we unplugged with board games, sketchbooks, journaling…and reading aloud to one another**

I will never forget feeling the cool air rushing to my face as I open the sliding door at sunrise, the way the world welcomes my arrival. I re-learned the beauty of surrender within my anxiety. To be one with it all and not constantly search for a way out, even when it is excruciating. With anxiety, most of your life can be spent plotting escape routes. The fastest and safest way out the door. Who am I without them? Who am I when I’m finally able to plant my feet firmly on the ground rather than run? Space. I meet myself there.

**We ended up driving back to Lake Powell to stay at this campsite again, because it was too damn dreamy. 3 nights wasn’t enough!**

**Van moments in the desert outside of Zion.**

**Down into the canyon we go! The start of our 14 mile hike to the Colorado River overlook in the Grand Canyon. It was cold on the rim that day, around 25 degrees. and near 75 in the Canyon!**

When was the last time you climbed a tree?

During the start of COVID-19 lockdown, I was walking one day in the woods behind my apartment when I had this overwhelming urge -- insisting I climb a tree. Just do it Sam. Climb the damn tree. My legs swinging from the branches was a special kind of weightlessness I hadn’t felt in years. How much of my life has been spent ruminating on the next step, or even the obsession of self-excavation? I want to occupy my own life. The way a child unapologetically shows up for their own curiosity in genuine form.

This trip was very similar, in an extended sense. Being immersed into childhood for a month where I am able to strip back all of the roles I’ve taken in my life; all of the expectations and responsibilities-- and trade them in for childlike curiosities. Wandering staring up at the sky, wide-eyed, bare feet in the soil, dirty hair wrapped in braids for days, no mirror reflections with the exceptions of streams, curling up with a book to nap when I’m exhausted, and not need to justify it. Soul medicine. We’re all deserving of that.

**Enjoying the dissonance of my studies against the desert climate. 6 Miles deep at Canyonlands National Park, the Needles District**

Sitting on the edge of Bryce Canyon at sunrise, I want to remember the understanding of impermanence. I want to remember the way the canyon winds sound like a roaring ocean- how they were once filled with miles of endless water and how the change still leaves remnants of it’s ghosts. How the Earth’s systems welcome the shift of plates and pattern of the winds; to know its meant for it. The way the tree clings to the canyon edge; roots clinging to life. Standing tall just the same.

The resilience and surrender in nature can be found in us all. The ability to lean into change holds us through the weight of loneliness, grief, and all that comes after. The world is always teaching. It’s our job to actually listen.

**Linds grabbing a shot of Bri and I on day 6 of the trip….just outside of Sand Dunes National Park, Colorado**

**Quick charcoal tree studies at our campsite in Black Canyon of the Gunnison, Colorado. It snowed this night and it was the first bit of snow on the trip!**

**5 Miles deep on the Fairyland Trail, Bryce Canyon National Park**

So, what is my main takeaway from this trip?

…Open Spaces.

Take wide open spaces back into your structured life. You are fluid, like water. Not everything has to be so controlled. Take wide open spaces back into the studio with you. You are allowed to play, like a child. Not everything has to be taken so seriously. Take wide open spaces back to your relationships and the way you walk through the world. You are worthy of receiving, like the love that you give. You’ve forgotten that you are that love. Take wide open spaces back into your mind’s eye. You are not ill, but attentive. You are a reminder of a human collectiveness.