Standing at the Edge of Change

Right now, I’m not writing this from the back of a converted van parked beside a windswept beach. I’m writing this from a place of becoming, of researching, planning, and imagining what life could be like if I chose to live by my own rules.

I haven’t started vanlife yet. But I’ve started something even more important: the decision to pursue it.

This is the in-between space, the quiet revolution happening within me as I prepare to step out of the conventional and into something freer, wilder, and more meaningful. I’m slowly piecing together the kind of life I want to live. One where I am not tethered to a desk, a postcode, or someone else’s definition of success.

In this story, I want to explore the psychological journey that begins before the wheels ever turn: the pull toward freedom, the honest fears I’m facing, and the deep fulfilment I’m seeking. This isn’t a retrospective. It’s a threshold. And I’m inviting you to walk it with me.

The Whisper of Another Life

It started as a quiet feeling. A longing that didn’t make sense at first. Just a tension I couldn’t name, like wearing shoes a size too small. I was living the life I was “supposed to” steady income, a roof over my head, weekend routines. But the deeper I leaned into what was expected of me, the more disconnected I felt from myself.

I began craving space, physically and emotionally. I wanted mornings that didn’t begin with a snoozed alarm and end in traffic. I wanted time to breathe, to write, to wake with the sun and sleep under stars. I wanted less of everything society told me I needed… and more of everything I’d forgotten I loved.

Vanlife, at first, seemed like a fantasy. But the more I researched, the more that fantasy began to feel like a possibility, even a responsibility. I started asking bigger questions:

• What would my life look like if I truly designed it for myself?
• What do I actually need to feel fulfilled?
• What’s stopping me from living more intentionally right now?
• Would my Wife feel the same way?

Those questions led me to here: this moment, this plan, this vision of life on the road. Not as an escape but as a return.

---

Research as a Ritual

Lately, my evenings are filled with YouTube van tours, blogs from solo travellers, budget spreadsheets, and floor plan sketches. I find myself measuring vans I don’t yet own, bookmarking water tanks and diesel heaters, and dreaming about the wild places I’ll one day call home.

But this research isn’t just practical, it’s psychological preparation. Every video I watch, every article I read, chips away at old beliefs I didn’t realise I was carrying: that stability only comes from routine, that home needs bricks, that freedom is for other people.

I’ve learned that freedom often begins with awareness — becoming conscious of the boxes we’ve placed ourselves in. And with every bit of information I gather, I feel those walls loosening. I feel closer to the life I want, even if I’m not there yet.

Freedom as Intention (Not Destination)

One of the biggest mental shifts I’ve had while preparing for vanlife is rethinking what freedom actually means.

I used to think freedom was about doing whatever you want. But now, I understand it’s more about intentionality choosing where your time, money, and energy go instead of letting life choose for you.

In psychological terms, this ties into autonomy, one of our basic human needs. It’s the feeling of being in control of your actions, your values, and your direction.

Planning a van build even before it exists is giving me back that sense of autonomy. I’m no longer just reacting to life. I’m designing it.

The Fears That Walk Beside Me

As exciting as this dream is, I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t scary. I’ve spent hours wondering:

• What if I can’t afford it?
• What if I fail at converting the van?
• What if my Wife and I struggle in a small space?
• What if we regret it?

But I’ve come to see that fear isn’t the enemy. It’s a compass. It points toward growth, toward change. Every fear I name becomes more manageable. And honestly, the fear of never trying, of staying stuck is much louder than any fear I have of the road.

Here’s what I’m learning: fear and freedom often show up together. If you’re afraid, it probably means you’re on the brink of something important.

Chasing Fulfilment, Not Just Escape

Vanlife isn’t about running away. It’s about running toward something more real. For me, that means redefining fulfilment.

I used to think fulfilment came from accomplishments, promotions, purchases, praise. But I’ve started asking: What if fulfilment comes from presence? Simplicity? Alignment?

Living in a van will limit how much I can own, but it will expand how I live. I imagine slow mornings brewing coffee by a lake. Long walks under open sky. Conversations with fellow travellers. Creating content and sharing this journey honestly through The Feral Way blog.

Fulfilment, I’m learning, is not something we achieve. It’s something we allow, when we stop cluttering our lives with things that don’t matter.

Money, Mindset, and Financial Freedom

One of the biggest hurdles in my vanlife prep isn’t emotional, it’s financial. I don’t come from wealth. I don’t have a cushion that lets me quit my job tomorrow and hit the road.

But that’s okay. Because I’m not just preparing for a lifestyle change — I’m also working toward financial freedom.

Here’s what that looks like:

• Budgeting: I’ve created spreadsheets estimating the cost of buying and converting a van, as well as monthly living costs on the road.
• Side Income: I’m exploring digital income streams — freelance writing, virtual assistance, content creation that I can build before I leave.
• Saving Intentionally: I’ve cut down on unnecessary expenses to save for my van build faster. Every takeaway I skip gets me closer to the road.
• Reframing Value: I’ve stopped measuring success by how much I earn and started measuring it by how much life I feel.

Vanlife is showing me that freedom isn’t about having more — it’s about needing less.

Imagining the Van (and the Life) I’m Building

Sometimes, when I close my eyes, I picture the van I’ll build.

It’s not massive. Maybe a long-wheelbase sprinter. Off-white exterior, pine cladding inside, a cosy reading nook, and a compact but functional kitchen. Solar panels on the roof. My laptop tucked into a drawer. A small plant above the bed.

But more than the van, I picture the version of myself who lives in it:

• Calmer.
• More grounded.
• Present.
• Self-reliant.
• Open to the unknown.

I’m not building a van just to travel. I’m building a life where I feel whole.

Belonging Before I Begin

Even though I haven’t hit the road yet, I’ve already started connecting with the vanlife community. Through forums, YouTube channels, Instagram, and blogs, I’ve found people who are living this dream and sharing it honestly.

Some of them are solo travellers, some are couples like we plan to be. Some live in luxury builds, others in humble conversions. But across all their stories, I see a common thread: courage and clarity.

Reading their words reminds me I’m not alone. I’m part of a growing wave of people choosing differently choosing intentionally. And even before my van is parked beside a cliff or forest, I feel like I’ve already started belonging.

Mental Preparation Is Part of the Build

People talk a lot about insulation, plumbing, or power systems. But one of the most important vanlife builds is the mental one.

Here’s how I’m preparing emotionally:

• Journaling – Tracking my fears, hopes, and milestones keeps me grounded.
• Visualisation – I practice seeing myself on the road, handling challenges, feeling peace.
• Self-Talk – When doubt creeps in, I speak to myself kindly: “You’re allowed to try. You’re allowed to change. You’re allowed to succeed.”
• Rituals of Letting Go – I’ve started decluttering my home already, not just to prepare, but to symbolically release what I no longer want to carry.

The Road Ahead

I don’t know when we’ll leave. Maybe in six months. Maybe in a year. But every day, We take one step closer in action, mindset, or belief.

And the truth is, vanlife has already changed me… even before it’s begun.

I make different choices now. I think longer-term. I value presence over performance. I seek connection, not competition. I question more and conform less. That is the psychology of vanlife at work, not in a van, but in the mindset.

You Don’t Have to Wait to Begin

If you’re reading this because you’re in the same space I’m in, dreaming, researching, feeling that magnetic pull toward the open road then I want to say: You’ve already started.

You don’t need the keys in your hand to begin the journey. The journey begins when you say: “I want more.” When you listen to the whisper. When you take that first small, brave step.

Whether you’re researching vans, figuring out how to earn income remotely, or just wondering what if you’re not alone.

I started The Feral Way to document this process from the very beginning — to share my learning, my process, and eventually, my life on the road.

I hope this story reminds you that freedom, fear, and fulfilment are not destinations — they’re companions on the path to becoming who you really are.

And that path? It’s already beneath your feet.