Is the Lion in the Room with Us Right Now?

Welcome to Road Rat’s second dispatch from the trail—sort of.

Right now, Balto and I are laid up at a (very gracious) friend’s place in Moab, Utah. What started as a quick pit stop to explore the area and knock out some light truck maintenance has turned into a six-week stay (not exactly by choice) full of rest, reflection, and recalibration.

It’s the blinker fluid, dummy

The biggest reason for our delayed departure? Good old-fashioned car trouble. This road rat thought it would be a fun idea to flush his own coolant for the first time. How hard could it be? (Spoiler: harder than I thought.) I’ll spare you the full saga—you can book a 1:1 consult if you’re into chaos—but the gist is: I broke a coolant drain plug and discovered a seized brake caliper in the process. I can still hobble around town for groceries, but the truck’s definitely not safe for the highway or the trail.

I’m not sharing this for sympathy. Everyone’s got their own shit, right? But road life has a funny way of handing you the exact lessons you didn’t know you needed. This one came in bold letters: You are exactly where you need to be. You are right on time.

I’d been itching to get back on the road for weeks. That urgency pushed me to knock out tasks and plan a four-day trip into the La Sal Mountains—an escape from Moab’s heat, which seemed to arrive overnight. And that’s when everything unraveled.

Not the “living unplugged” I had in mind

The plug broke. The brake seized. And suddenly, just one day before my departure, I was back at square one—frustrated, defeated, and spiraling.
“Why can’t I do anything right?”
“This ruins everything.”
“I’m not cut out for this.”
“I’m running out of time.”

Sound familiar?

We’ve all been there. As humans, we’re wired to resist change. We crave control and predictability. But the truth is, our brains haven’t evolved fast enough to keep up with the pace of modern life. That same wiring that once helped our ancestors escape a lion? Today, it panics over flat tires, unread emails, and changing plans. Our brains are amazing at scanning the past and the future—but not so great at just being present.

So when the parts were delayed, and there was nothing to do but wait, I started to sink. I lost sleep. I felt stuck. Doubts crept in.
Maybe I wasn’t ready.
Maybe I should’ve waited until I was older.
Maybe this was all a mistake.

And then… clarity.

There was no lion waiting to pounce. No real deadline. Just a temporary setback—one I was capable of handling. And if I let fear win every time something got uncomfortable, I’d spend my entire life hiding.

There is no perfect time. There’s only now.

No matter who you are, you’ve probably wrestled with this. That inner tug-of-war between what you want and the voice that whispers, maybe I should wait. And hey, maybe that voice has a point sometimes. Maybe starting that business is risky. Maybe quitting your job before a recession isn’t “responsible” (totally not speaking from personal experience lol).

But when I picture the version of me looking back on life decades from now, I know what I won’t regret:
I won’t regret trying.
I won’t regret betting on myself.
I won’t regret chasing the version of life that makes me feel most alive.

So no, this isn’t your permission slip—or mine—to live recklessly. But it is an invitation to recognize our brain’s superpower: finding reasons to stay safe and small. And to call bullshit on that when the stakes are low, and the upside is high.

Moving forward, I’m flipping the script from “maybe next year” to “why not now?”
And if I hear a reason not to… it better be a damn good one.

As for today? Balto and I find peace in the stillness.

If you’ve made it this far, maybe something in this resonates with you. If so, let’s talk. I’m currently offering 1:1 consults completely FREE (for a limited time). Whether you’re curious about nomad life, taking a sabbatical, or just figuring out what your “next chapter” could look like, I’d love to be a curious visitor in your world—a soundboard, a mirror, a voice of reason.

Stay scrappy, friends.
—Drew