Today, my home is officially everywhere. My apartment is empty and everything I own fits into my truck. To some this would induce anxiety and possibly feelings of shame but for me, I’ve never felt more alive. When home is suddenly wherever I park my truck the world feels much bigger, in the most comforting way possible.
I use to feel like the world was happening all around me and I was standing still…surrounded by things, surrounded by walls. Now it feels as though I’m right in the middle of it. I’ve been wanting to live out of my vehicle for the past few years and I’ve had many opportunities but there was always an excuse (a man, a job, bills, fear, etc..). Every year it’s circled back to this, to me feeling a strong pull towards a nomadic life, it’s time I stop resisting.
All my possessions that no longer serve me are gone. The bed of my truck has now been turned into a functioning “cozy”, for lack of a better word, living space. If given the choice I’ll probably choose my truck over a feather blanketed queen mattress. I want to be as close to the birds singing in the morning and as far from the hum of electricity as possible.
I want my evenings to be a quest for the best parking space.
My neighbor to be a tent or tall pine trees.
My pages to be lit up by a headlamp.
My furniture consisting of a single camping chair.
My rent is gas and oil changes.
My meals consist of oatmeal, lunchmeat, pasta, and avocados.
To consider my clothes clean as long as they don’t smell.
Where babywipe or a swim in the river counts as a shower.
For someone to ask me where I live and my response to be “everywhere.”
This is when I am the best version of myself.