That dreaded question. I'm homeless, but how do I explain it to you? In the past year, I've lived in four continents, mostly out of suitcases and the nagging feeling that my stay wherever I am at that moment is only temporary.
How do you invest in a place when you're living like that? How do you budget for it? Money, mental space, baggage allowance, and room for relationships to grow.
You could argue that I'm a born nomad, but in the past year, I've learnt to travel lighter. I've learnt to take in what I can wherever I am, whether I think I've seen everything in the smallest tourist city you've ever seen, or whether I feel I'm only starting to get privy to all the secrets the world's most popular cosmopolis has to share. I've learnt that there are things you will always compare about cities, and things that will just not make sense. (Also true for life!) I've learnt a few more languages and accents, and that friends can be made at movie sets, food stalls, or at the filthy poolside you've taken yourself to on a workday. A bit more painfully, I've learnt how important it is to make the time to keep my friends and family close, to eat what's right for me, and how to find inspiration in the familiar twists of routine.
I've eaten locally, lived cheaply, and made most of my friends through my work (the reason I've wigwagged across the globe). I haven't traveled impossibly far or wide, but I do now have a home in each city.
The most important thing I've learnt though, remains inscribed on a plaque I bought somewhere along the way:
"Life is a balance of holding on and letting go"(less)
Mittens' fear had become a reality in what felt like an instant. At first glance his mind was reluctant to accept what he was seeing, but after the initial shock wore off he began to accept what had happened. It was raining.
Mittens had spent the whole morning toddlin(more)g back and forth between the hot sunshine of the window and the fluffy bed of his own hair that he had carefully forced into the top of the sofa until they were nearly indistinguishable from one another. After all that lounging he had been filled with a sense of feisty rambunctiousness what he knew would only be quelled by the fury of the hunt.
At the peak of his excitement the thunder hit and signalling the worst. He could not venture outdoors for it had become far too wet, very quickly. A wet cat is an unhappy cat, and an unhappy kittens soothe their tempers by lighting things on fire. Mittens was in no mood to go burning the house down like last time, so he chose to stay indoors.
It was a long storm, and the more it raged, the more depressed mittens felt, always considering his lost chance at flinging a carcass around in the yard. He fell asleep feeling despondent and unsatisfied.
When he awoke the next morning the sun had returned, as it usually did. He did his best to shake off his still lingering sense of defeat and took a step out the kitty door to peak outside. Such a wonder beheld him that he could not even consider how this must have happened, it was surely a miracle. Somehow overnight the grass had grown to double his height. It was the perfect hunting ground. He slaughtered mercilessly until the bodies coated the entire door mat.(less)