Lessons From a Year of Nomadic Living
(5 Minute Read)
Last year, I ran away from home. Upon ending a five year relationship, I began a year of nomadic living. Looking back, it was an attempt to rediscover myself. The pace of change that accompanies life as a nomad inspires growth in unique ways. This piece is my reflection of a few lessons of the lifestyle.
Discomfort
Bouncing around in Airbnb’s gives you many opportunities to learn to live with discomfort. Nothing is ideal. Ever. From shitty cookware to using a stool instead of a chair, one quickly learns to make do. The lifestyle encourages low standards. There’s a quiet strength that comes with the ability to accept, be content, and find peace – despite the circumstance. What’s the opposite? Karen the Princess. Karen the Princess needs her dwelling to hover at 72 degrees along with a glass of coconut water with ice and a paper straw within reach at all times. No one wants to be a Karen.
During the journey, I accidentally left my towel at one of the Airbnbs. My next destination was Manhattan, where I was lucky to stay at my dad’s apartment for a month, so I asked him to leave me a towel. What he left me turned out to be a thin floor mat from a hotel the size of a pillowcase – the leopard print trim gave it away. Instead of buying one on Amazon, I thought it might be hilarious to try using it for a few days. I’ve got a weird sense of humor. Surprisingly, I got used to it. I love being around people who can find joy in any condition. I wish for that superpower. Maybe it can be trained by using tiny towels.
The stoic philosophers taught this by practicing poverty. Kevin Kelly, a technologist, does this once a year by eating nothing but oatmeal and sleeping in a tent for days or weeks at a time. When the stoics did this, they constantly asked themselves, “Is this the condition that I feared?” They realize it’s actually not as bad as they feared and remember that millions of people live this way every day by no choice of their own. It seems humbling.
Minimalism
For most of my life I enjoyed collecting things. State quarters, shot glasses, flattened pennies with engravings on them, rocks, rusted nails from train tracks, you name it. What for? Cause I’m dumb. My obsession would always jump from one thing to the next. They still do. And gear piles up quickly. In 2015 I found “The Life Changing Magic of Tidying Up” by Marie Kondo and began the endeavor of decluttering. A year later I watched a documentary called “Minimalism” and ended up watching it over and over again until ‘Minimalism’ was tattooed onto my squishy brain. The lessons continue to inspire. I’d love to know what it feels like to have a relationship with my belongings that reflect meaning, value, and joy. And nothing else. I’d love to free myself of meaningless clutter. It weighs you down and takes up space in both your brain and bedroom. It’s been a multi-year undertaking and it’s nice to have a lifestyle that cheers me on as I walk down the path towards less.
Since I drove across the country, I was limited to what I could carry in the back of my car. By the end of the year I realized that I didn’t really need most of it. In Mexico City, I lived out of a suitcase. The less stuff you take, the easier it gets and life on the road shows that you can be happy with less. I’m sorting it out one toss at a time.
Consistency
Dr. Andrew Huberman says that the strongest habits are context independent. Meaning the habit remains despite the circumstances. For example, no matter where you are, you probably brush your teeth in the morning and for those of you who don’t, we can tell. It doesn’t matter if you’re hungover in Vegas or backpacking through Montana, you likely brush your teeth every morning. Now that’s a strong habit.
When the environment constantly changes, the lifestyle naturally challenges you to strengthen your habits. There’s no more favorite yoga class to go to. No more familiar path to run. My coach describes it as learning to “live more from internal vision than external pressures”. No matter where I was, I found solace and stability in the morning ritual of chugging a glass of water and making my bed. It’s the simple things. From there we build.
Nine years ago, I started tracking my habits. It basically started with archaic cave wall paintings. I used paper trackers or calendar posters on the wall and marked each day with a pen. Eventually I moved them to excel sheets and then apps on my phone. Last year, I finally found an app that shows your completion rate for the week, month, and year. I can see that last year, I meditated for 62% of the days. Seeing the percentage improve over time is what motivates me most and I hope to do a little better each year.
Self Awareness
Long term solo traveling gives you the time and space to take a long look in. And a long look out. When looking out, the world reflects back parts of yourself you’ve forgotten. Every new place and new person polishes that mirror for another look. I’ve observed a few things about preferences, personality, and patterns.
Preferences. Part of my motivation to drive across the country and live in different cities was to learn more about where I’d like to settle down one day. There’s a big difference between living near nature versus life in the city. Places like Mexico City are endless with incredible restaurants and late nights out. In Boise or Asheville, most mornings started with a hike or trail run. I love it all. After too long in the city, I crave the mountains. And too long in the mountains made me crave the rapid heartbeat of the city. I guess it depends on what your soul needs at the moment. Don’t we want it all? I haven’t made up my mind.
Personality. For many years I flipped back and forth between identifying as an introvert or an extrovert. A year of solo traveling has given me a definitive answer. Throughout the year, I often found myself having great conversations on the phone for hours at a time with close friends from across the country. At the end of the day, it’s what I craved. Long walks and long talks were always invigorating. It’s incredible what a simple phone call can do to keep you connected with your tribe. With some friends I’ve got bi-weekly zoom calls on the calendar and for others I call them out of the blue when I’m trying to stay awake on some long ass drives. My brother gets the worst of it. Anytime I get excited about something, he gets a call. To Justin, thanks for lending me your ear. It means more than you know.
With every move, I noticed the pattern of fresh starts and lazy endings. You know that feeling you get around the New Year? There’s hope and possibility in the air, along with a sense of momentum. That’s what the first week in every new city felt like. I got out of bed on time, made sure to exercise and meditate, and let the good vibes roll. Then towards the end of the stay, temptations crept in. Something about a new start around the corner made it easy to fall off the wagon and stay out or up late. I could catch up on sleep next week. Or when I die. It’s still a struggle and I guess awareness is the first step.
The Spiritual
Above all, the biggest reminder this year has taught me is this — nothing lasts forever. Everything is temporary. Nothing is permanent. And this too shall pass. Every new place was a subtle reminder to seize the day, because in a few short weeks, I’d move on. Home was temporary.
When we stay in one place for too long, it’s easy to fall prey to the idea that we’ll wake up tomorrow and life will be the same. We’ll see the same kitchen, sit at the same desk, and hangout with the same friends. It’s an illusion. Your friends change and all homes are temporary. It’s just a matter of time, and we’ll all be moving on. Life is temporary.
There’s a Japanese saying that illustrates the point quite well. Ichigo Ichie means, “one moment, one opportunity”. It’s a reminder that every moment that passes is a precious treasure that’s utterly unique. Once it passes, it’s gone forever. Don’t blink.
Afterword
At the beginning of the year I found an old journal entry from 2017. It was about different lives I’d like to have. I forgot all about it.
Here’s a map of the drive:
Here’s a breakdown of the year:
50 nights in San Diego, CA
6 nights in Fremont, CA
12 nights in Tahoe, NV
6 nights around Zion National Park, UT
3 nights in Las Vegas, NV
12 nights in Surprise, AZ
10 nights in Maui, HI*
11 nights in Surprise, AZ
7 nights in Albuquerque, NM
2 nights in Marfa, TX
34 nights in Austin, TX
1 night in Nashville, TN
6 nights in Asheville, NC
13 nights in Manhattan, NY
3 nights in New Orleans, LA
24 nights in Manhattan, NY
1 night in Cincinnati, OH
1 night in Golden, CO
47 nights in Boise, ID*
3 nights in Las Vegas, NV
3 nights in Louisville, KY
6 nights in Boise, ID
4 nights in Las Vegas, NV
2 nights in Boise, ID
10 nights in Fremont, CA
30 nights in Mexico City, MX
3 nights in Los Angeles, CA
12 nights in Oaxaca, MX
5 nights in Mexico City, MX
24 nights in Fremont, CA
5 nights in Tahoe, NV