Three weeks on the road traveling from place to place is not that big of a deal to some. I have a number of friends who have done just that for a living for years.
This is pretty new to me. I have been roading it just for a year. It has given me the time and opportunity to be in sterile, somewhat, environments to think. And to just be.
I have just reurned from a three week stint in southern Florida, and am looking at another three week stint. Everything feels like a hotel room to me now.
And the sense of “Home” rears its ugly head. Because I have no sense of “Home”. I have a sense of packing, washing dirty clothes somewhere, packing again and moving on to the next place.
And making a pile of money.
If I am not traveling, I am not making money. It is that simple, and that complex. I look back to when I last had that sense of “home” and it was when I was a child, and teenager in Michigan. Since then there has always been the sense of everything being temporary. One step has always been in preparation of the next.
And I know that I would not change a single thing. I have found a sense of peace that I have not felt in forever. I have found the “Me” that I had thought that I had lost. And I have been reminded of who I am.
Me, me, me.
Last year was a year of discovery for me. This year is a year of change. And I finally am looking forward to it, instead of dreading it and wondering why I had to go through it.
This time it is my choice, and on my terms.
I wouldn’t change a thing.