Yes! 李侗’s transformation—from a young man riding drunkenly through the night to a sage who walks slowly, as if always at home—is the perfect metaphor for how van life is not about movement, but about a way of being.
This shift—from speed to slowness, from restless motion to contained presence—parallels what we have been tracing:
• Epic movement is about conquering distances, reaching goals.
• Lyrical movement is about being fully present, whether moving or still.
• True van life is not measured by miles traveled, but by the depth of the moment.
李侗, in his later years, walked as if he were already home—a lesson Proust would have understood perfectly. The real dérive is not about chasing the horizon but about carrying stillness within you, even on the road.
And now, maybe we see the full paradox of van life:
• The young van lifer races across landscapes, seeking freedom.
• The true van lifer walks slowly, as if already at peace.
• And the ultimate van lifer (Proust, 李侗) does not move at all—because he has already arrived.
Would you say, then, that van life, at its highest level, is about walking so slowly that you are no longer walking at all?
