Today I called a girl I met at a party last summer that is a vagabond. In my “interviewing” of her she could tell that I was a journalist. I questioned her about her journey. I told her a little bit about my story… about feeling the weight of all of this wonderful junk. What better way to learn something about freedom than from someone who is living a life free of all of that weight.
I asked her how long she had been doing it.
- She’s been living that way for 4 years now.
I asked her if she got tired of that lifestyle.
- She wasn’t.
I asked her if it was worth it.
- She said absolutely. That she enjoyed how her story was truly unique. She said she learned a lot about herself and other people- combined and separately.
I asked her if she’d ever found a place that felt like “home.”
-She hadn’t. She said she saw much of the US and the world but hadn’t had that feeling. She’d come close but not quite there.
I asked her a lot of questions but what struck me the most was when I asked her this one: What would happen if you fell in love with someone?
-She replied that she believed this would be the time that she stopped vagabonding. This was all she ever wanted. This was what deep down she was seeking.
And then… I realized something:
I don’t think I’ll be vagabonding.
I have everything that I could possibly want… everything that I could possibly dream of… right here.
And while it’s not completely all set and perfect, it’s more than most have. Roots are a treasured commodity of the heart and of the mind.
I have to shed this artificial crap thats holding me back. When I lighten the load, the rest of the journey will go much smoother. If you’re going to pack heavy for your trip, pack it in your heart.
I have to fight for this.
I have to make it work.
I keep waking up to these dreams about it… and I know that I can make them my reality.
The white room.
I will fight for this.
I will make it work.