No. Not that kind of imaginary life. Really. I hardly ever think like that. What I am writing about is what I imagine my life could be if I weren't caught up in a web of responsibilities and consequences from my prior choices. Life with sufficient resources to live as I choose, without considering the needs and wants of others.
It is not a life of opulence. I don't value bling. I don't long for big houses and expensive cars. Indeed, I dream right now of being in the desert of Southern California, living in my van. Wandering around those communities, exploring and just living slow and simple and at a very low cost. Why there? The winter temperatures range from good to manageable. The restrictions on just camping free are minimal. Resources and great empty spaces are near enough to each other to make it work.
This life I imagine is actually do-able, if I did not have the previously mentioned responsibilities. I have the resources to make this life real. I just choose not to do so, in order to care for those to whom I am committed. The people I love. I prefer to meet my obligations, but my mind drifts away at times to that [imagined] desert and a life of simplicity and much quiet.
I do not regret my life. It is pretty much what I have worked to accomplish. Still, at times my mind drifts off and I imagine my quiet camp near Slab City or somewhere near the southern terminus of US Route 395. Imagine. It is probably better this way. I have an imaginary retreat to which my mind can go when I find the consequences of my choices less than ideal. A Happy Place. A Laughing Place.
These imaginings are more valuable to me because I could do them, if I were to choose a selfish course and abandon my responsibilities. Life as a wealthy vagabond yacht owner might have greater appeal, but it is not achievable for most of us. Certainly not for me. I have a used van and camping gear. I am only a decision away from the high-end hobo life.
Therein is the value. I daily choose to remain and share my days with those I love. I choose to keep this way of life. It is a real choosing. It is not a real choice to abandon the yacht. I can't have one. To abandon a viable option is a real choice. I choose this life, and am happy in the choosing.
Most of the time. The rest of the time, I can imagine.
I am currently 62 years old. At present I am a retired correctional officer with 20 years of service. (My real job these days is being a Grandpa.)
I am married to my long-suffering wife, Linda. I have three children; Matthew, Beth, and Jon. I currently have six grandchildren; Alexandra, Madelyn, Wyatt, Lucas, Abigail and Landon.