Never Homeless

This blog post is about realizing my childhood dream of having a sleep-over every night.

For more than 6 months I have not had a permanent home. I have made my bed on couches, floors, campsites, backyards, parking lots, and a trampoline.

In the past 200 days, I have flown in and out of airports in Chicago, Seattle, Las Vegas, Mexico City, Monterrey, San Jose, Denver, Bellingham, and San Diego. I have also driven nearly 10,000 miles in my 2003 Honda CRV ("Sally Mustang"). What I want to illustrate, is the scale of this transition period in my life. I have covered a lot of ground physically, mentally, and emotionally.

The basis for this transition period seems to be: what do I want?  This is a simple question with very complicated answers. To make it a bit more digestible I am focusing on who, what, and where. I want to have a committed relationship, but I need to face my fear of bringing another person close to me. I want to find a job that will utilize my talents and gifts, but I also want to work outdoors, make decent money, and have time to travel (these things rarely intersect). Lastly, I want a strong community, yet, all my favorite people do not live anywhere close to one another.

Finding some perspective at Toroweap, Grand Canyon

Being the kind of guy that wants to apply a solution to a problem, I get frustrated by the unsolvable nature of my dilemma. My "plan" is vague, to say the least. I content myself with celebrating the little moments of each day and trying to be patient. Finding where I will live next, applying for jobs, making phone calls, and keeping some forward momentum, counts for a lot. It is easy to get down on myself thinking about how long it may take to find what I want. Every morning, I remind myself to be thankful for what I have and not get too stressed about the unknown.

Having a sleep-over every night is my reality right now, and it is great fun. The most important lesson I am drawing from this is to be present, and not worry about things outside my control. I will not and cannot be transient forever, but I am thankful for friends who are excited to have me stay with them, for good food and drinks, and laughter.

One Car Full

My life still fits in my 2003 Honda CRV. It feels so clean, so light, and so simple.

The things I carried with me to Utah four years ago are very different than the things I brought with me back to Washington. I think about who I was then, and all the experiences of my time in the desert. In all these things I have sought to push myself. To see the world unencumbered and to live close.

To live close is to be true, to speak from the heart, to live freely.