3. Play the Game

So this was it. I could play the RV game and pretend to have great fun, great adventures. And the price of the game was to meet this undiscovered fear that I never knew existed. And so it went, day by day, reading of great trips, meeting new friends, having exciting adventures --- all to my great delight --- accompanied by an occasional glimpse of the "alone" fear, as it glanced over its shoulder at me.

I would have to face my fear. That's the purpose of the game.

Where were you, my intuition, when I needed you most? Could you not have whispered a word of encouragement or pointed a way out of the maze? Do you even exist? You leave me, like my fear, alone to decide. Alone to act and play the game or not, as I so choose. How alone is that?

Yet it has no fear connected to it. No panic. Just a decision that no one else is going to make for me. And I can deal with that. So I *will* play the game and when the boogie-man returns, face that when the time comes. I am not without fear, but I am not fearful either. The game can continue.

And so it did for a year. Two years. And on the third year a moment arrived when the game could become reality. If I choose. Was I alone for this moment? I can't be sure. Intuition had not been around much, and I was left to fend for myself. But it wasn't a fearful time.

When I found the fifth wheel that would become *my* fifth wheel --- when I talked to that man and heard the excitement in his voice describe all the neat goodies in this rig --- when that happened, I could feel both a joy and excitement deep inside. Was this you, intuition? Was this a sign? Are you talking to me again?

There was nothing to do, but to see the thing first-hand and make one of those command decisions. Knowing full well that in the blink of a moment the game would become reality. Excitement, laced with terror. The days passed, as I worked my way down to Benson, AZ to see this rig. My faithful little Honda carried me without complaint and I marveled that it could travel so far on a few tankfuls of gasoline. 2100 miles.

Half a continent. To me it felt like the other side of the world. The desert is no ordinary place. I tried to think of home, but it didn't exist anymore. It was like Michigan turned into a gigantic sink hole and there was no place to go back to. Yet, the strangest thing is that it didn't seem to matter. Home was not a place anymore, it was where I was at.

There was nothing to do but to continue on and live in the moment. There was no past. It ceased to exist as I drove through some super-sonic time wave and came out the other side in a different universe. No mere illusion, I could literally *feel* the past disappear. I was living in the now and there was no past. (Fortunately the fifth wheel owners were not disturbed by this and they appeared to be quite normal as I quietly contemplated all this).

When the decision was to be made, there was no doubt that this rig was meant for me. In my own mind, that is. There was a sense of excitement that may have been intuitive guidance, but I can't be sure. To add to the hilarity of the situation, I had been driving for many hours with my belt too tight. This had never occurred before.

But apparently after several days of nearly non-stop driving, my stomach decided to pay back this punishment by creating an intense pain. Clearly this is not how intuition communicates, so I charged ahead and consummated the deal.

That afternoon I called Dale, who was a mere 400 miles away in California. Of course he'd like to come out and see it, he said over the phone. So a day later, my RV mentor met me in the RV storage area and checked out my purchase. He quite approved and left me feeling that it had all been worthwhile.

The game had officially ended. The RV Game had become reality. As Dale and I parted ways, I pondered the meaning of this and of the hidden fear that I had discovered.

The words "It is finished" popped into my mind, like a joking biblical reference, and I thought "What is *that* all about?" Yet, while my pain persisted, my mind was relaxed. I would just have to take this one step and a time and not let it overwhelm me. Whatever had happened, I was happy with it.

Intuition would just have to get with the program if it disapproved. I had taken charge of the situation and hoped that it was with the guidance that I so often sought. For now, I had to return to the past. To find that place that no longer existed. With a sore stomach. But happy, nonetheless.