Nomad No More

517: the number of nights I spent sleeping on beds that weren’t mine, couches, air mattresses, pillows, cushions, sleeping pads, yoga mats, tents, and even once in my car

Making myself a home away from no home

This fact became more of a reality and less of a game to me since I returned from my travels almost a year ago.  Freelance writing is no way to get ahead, financially speaking, so I remained “homeless” to continue to do what I love.

There were so many things I missed about having my own home.  I missed sitting on my bed and staring at my wall art (I called it meditating, others called it too much time on my hands).  I missed my low-sodium cookbooks and whipping up delicious, kidney-friendly recipes in my own kitchen.  I really missed having my own space to write, paint, and create.

One of my favorite quotes is: “The pessimist complains about the wind, the optimist expects it to change, but the realist adjust the sails.”

I don’t always consider myself a realist, but I am a champ at making the very best with what I have.  Things weren’t always fine and dandy, but I always remembered the life changing experiences that ended up coming out of my nomadic lifestyle.  However, I’m still human and I had my days.  So, this is my grumbling:

I ate out a lot.  I enjoy dining out but would prefer to cook myself.  My kidneys agree.

I found my underwear in people’s driveways – several times.  The most embarrassing incident was at Tamera’s house, only because it had rained the previous night and had slicked my neon green underwear to her driveway.  I stopped leaving clothes in my car.  It was best for everyone.

I didn’t have anything tying me down.  I was able to pick up and travel the country for three months.  I still think of it as one of the best things I have ever done for myself.

I lost a lot of stuff – jewelry, clothes, shoes, and a little bit of my mind.

I lived with Diana and Brad for two months in West St. Paul.  Their quaint house still and always will release that “happy place” feeling whenever I enter.

I bought a car.  I had been car-less for 14 months prior to moving out of my Burnsville home.  I’m quite impulsive and often have an odd way of making decisions, if you never noticed.

I sold my car.  There was no way my car was going to make it back to LA after the torture I put that poor 10-year-old car through on my road trip around the states.  I am once again without a car but live in a city where everything I want, except my friends, is within walking or biking distance.  Luckily, I have a really cool sister that shares her car with me for all those weekend trips to the valley.

I drove a lot.  I put over 30,000 miles on my car in one year. Only 6,000 miles was from my road trip.  The average American drives 12,000 miles per year.  Where the heck was I going?

I’d like to say that I saved money from not paying rent, but I’d only be lying to myself.

I had my good days and my bad days, but things were never really as bad as they seemed.  I had originally put my belongings in storage for two months – HA!  Those two months quickly turned into a year and a half, but it reminded me of things I often forget in the bustle of life.  It reminded me to slow down, to appreciate the little things I had in my life, and how to live comfortably as a minimalist.

My belongings are currently snuggled into a large moving truck en route to my new apartment in LA.  I am eager to tear through the boxes and find that I don’t need half of the things I packed away that sad September.  Hopefully having a home again won’t spoil me too much.  If it does, I just might go find a yoga mat and some random floor to sleep on, just to remind myself how truly lucky I am in life.

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