Houseless Not Homeless
So I've definitely been in a position
where I didn't have a place to be at night. That's not what this is.
This is living primarily in my backpack and not knowing where I'll be
that night because it could be any of a number of wonderful places.
It took a while to occur to me, just
how home-full I was. It was when I realized I did not need to pick up
beer to go over to a friends' house because I have beer stashed all
over this city, like a squirrel in the Spring.
Sometimes it is exhausting to carry my
work clothes, my homework, food for like two days, toiletries, and
whatever else I might need. I schlep over a patch of land larger than
my hometown. But how rewarding to know that I can live with anyone,
that I am resourceful enough that I can sleep anywhere and still get
done what needs to get done in my life.
Even more rewarding that this
transience, this resting my head nomadic constant exodus, represents
so many people who care for me so much that they share their
(showers, food, clothes, hugs) space and their lives with me.
For the past several months, I've slept
in the same spot a max of probably five nights consecutive, usually
three at a time. But home is not where the crap is, home is where the
heart is. How reassuring as I abandon all that is known and embark on
a five-year, round world adventure. So when I could feel torn, rent
asunder, divided between this house and that house, between this city
and that city, state and state, between different countries; instead
I will feel comforted. I will feel at home.
