The pile of things in the corner that needs to either fit in the car or exit my life grows bigger. A post office box is ready to receive all the mail I probably don’t even want until I once again figure out an address I can call “permanent”, for a little while anyway. The adventure begins in two weeks.
I have experienced the stability of a place to call home for close to 12 years now. I enjoy having my own space, surrounded by the objects that have come to have special meaning to me such as photographs of past travels and artwork created by friends. But is it worth the cost of having to work so many hours at jobs that don’t excite me and that keep me tied to a schedule where I spend the best hours of the day indoors? For me right now it is not.
In a post titled What Is The Dirtbag Way?, I wrote about the freedom I experienced while living out of a backpack, and how at that time in my life I knew that having less meant experiencing more. That knowledge and experience exists only as memory right now, subsumed by the activities and thoughts required to maintain a comfortable stability I’ve grown to be restless in once again. But, I’m ready to feel that freedom again for a while, and to remember what I have forgotten.