As many of you know, I bought a little mobile cabin on craigslist built by a man who is probably insane and I love him. This is a man who said, “I’m going to build something crazy and awesome,” and then he did it.
He installed a windmill, a solar panel, and then apparently got bored and didn’t finish any of it. This is definitely my kind of guy.
He had a vision, invested tons of time, money and then probably went on to almost build something else. I can relate because I’ve been there several times. You have an idea, it seems great at the time, you chase it, and then decide it’s not what you want or isn’t filling the hole you expect it to fill.
So we chase and we chase and we chase some more, perpetually looking for that slice of heaven, not finding it and moving on. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve been there.
Now I live at a nudist resort in this man’s broken dream and I can’t help but wonder what he’s building now (I hope it’s a bigger one of these with a slide or something).
Maybe it’s a boat car, a treehouse, or a purple three-handled family gredunza. Maybe it’s a catapult, a hovercraft, or a recliner with an engine. (Basically all things I will totally buy from him when he gets bored with them.)
And when I think about his pursuit, I reflect on my own plans and how thankful I am they didn’t work out as I planned. That my failed plans have resulted in where I am today, and that’s a pretty great place.
If you had told me a year ago that I’d be living in a nudist park, I would have scoffed, perhaps even hissed at you, thrown things and insulted your parents (not really). This was not my plan, and I guarantee you the man who built my homemade box on wheels did not plan on a) it residing in a nudist park or b) me residing in it.
Like many of my own plans, his plan also failed, but I’d like to think (and hope) his own failed plans have led him to a similar place. That a certain karmic synergy exists between us and that he’s been rewarded in kind. Because as I stare at the fog-capped mountain outside my window, I now know that my failed plans were merely steps on a path to this peaceful place. It’s a good feeling and I wish I could give it to him, and everyone, as a gift (but since I can’t, you’ll probably get an Applebee’s gift card or a snowman made from macaroni).
Merry Christmas and the Happiest New Year to my family, all my new friends, old friends and even the people I’ve not met, because I’m sure they’re reading this and it would be exceptionally rude not to include them.