Nomad: a person or a group of people that has no permanent abode but moves about from place to place.
There’s something so tragic about it, yet something so magic about it. This life we lead, we choose. We long for home, yet we long for more. We miss our kin, and the place we were born. But we cannot call it home, while life calls upon us elsewhere. We learn how far kindness takes you, in both it’s acceptance and in it’s gifting. We build bonds of strength that could move these mountains and oceans and timezones that separate us with our love ones. How powerful a thing love is, when it is tested it only grows.
It feels so lonesome, and it feels so wholesome. I have known faith and bravery and love like no other while on this road, and I found them all within myself. I found, myself. So whenever my heart aches, and occasionally breaks from this life, I am consoled by the beauty it leaks out. Maybe we do it for those who tried and failed, for those who dreamt but did not do, for those that wished but simply couldn’t. Maybe they were all just versions of ourselves who weren’t yet ready for the road.
We do not know what tomorrow holds, or where tomorrow holds. That is the gift. We learn new and old ways, how funny it is that it takes longer to unlearn something, but we do that too. We allow hopes and dreams, but we know how valuable pure grit & hard work is. We embrace the moment as much as we can, for this is where everything really is. The big everything, and those precious little moments that it’s made up of are nothing if you are too worried about what was or what will be. There’s something so bruising about it, but there’s something so moving about it.