When you live like a nomad
the world around you
is continuously in flux.
It’s part of why I love to travel.
Liberation in exploration.
But one of the hardships of travel
is learning to let go.
Learning to say goodbye.
I wave to my loving family
after short visits
watching their faces disappear
behind the glared glass doors
stretching my heartstrings
beyond security, borders, and seas.
I meet amazing people
form deep connections
but refrain from attachment
knowing and accepting
that I may never see them again.
is a skill I have cultivated
to make this lifestyle possible.
To allow myself to feel free.
But sitting here in the dark
packing the last of my belongings
I feel overcome with sadness.
After spending the last two and half months in Puerto Viejo
I am moving again.
I am traveling again.
I feel afraid of what is next.
I feel unsure of the fate of my own future.
Wait, isn’t that what I love about travel in the first place?
The liberating uncertainty of it all?
So sitting here
feeling conflicted about saying goodbye
makes me feel weak.
Makes me feel dependent.
But perhaps it just means that I care.
That I let down my guard enough to become attached.
Could that be so bad?
Can I be an adventure-loving drifter
experiencing the pleasure and thrill of the world
and also a deeply rooted nester
active in community, friendship, and love?
Can I, like you, be and do anything that I want?
Live any way that I want?
Of course I can.
Today I am choosing to be back on the road.
I am choosing to leave Puerto Viejo behind.
But I feel secure in also knowing
that I can always always always choose (as I often do)
to go back to my comfort, my community, my home.