Do Something Different

I’m officially a nomad. Not a digital nomad, since I’m carting a suitcase full of art supplies, but a nomad nonetheless. I sold my apartment, put my belongings in storage, and decided to travel for a few months—the kind of travel where I camp out in one place for a while to work, while also sightseeing and socializing. There is a level of freedom in it I’ve never experienced before. The not knowing feels fun. The not planning allows for new ideas and opportunities. I know it’s temporary—I’m the kind of person who needs a place to call home (and a studio), but I don’t know how temporary.

What surprised me is how uncomfortable other people get when they hear about my choice; how many questions they ask to try to figure out what I myself don’t know (“Where will you…?” “When will you…?” “How long…?” “But…”). I get why this lifestyle may seem like a nightmare to some—it did to me most of my life. But I wonder if part of the discomfort is masking some internal yearning for adventure and surprise that our ego, in an attempt to protect us, is trying to bury so deeply we can never see it.

When we think about the best days of our life, how many of them were predictable? How many can we replicate with careful planning? Close to zero. Yet we’re always trying to plan or predict or anticipate, and when we can’t, we’re concerned or weary.

Everything changes eventually, even if we do nothing. That’s the nature of our world. But if we go to the same places, see the same people, do the same work, follow the same routines, and think the same thoughts, maybe there’s room to nudge the universe just a little bit by doing something different… Nomadic life optional.

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