Nomad Diaries

Have you ever wondered if life could be lived differently? That of our parents, friends, or mentors. If you could at all not follow anyone’s stepping stones but instead, set your own. Break the rules, step outside of the walls of acceptance, cross over society’s accepted-boundaries, disregard every judgement, and make up your own laws.

2016 was the year of breaking free. The year when I grew wings. Coming out of a heart break and having broken into a million pieces did it. By around that same time, I had been offered the most incredible thing one can imagine: a work-remote position. Who could have guessed? I didn’t have to go into an office!

And so I had to, one by one, put the pieces back together. I was back at square one. They say that the Japanese fill in the cracks of broken porcelain objects with gold, because they believe that when something’s been shattered it then becomes more beautiful. I truly think that what I’ve built up is, to me, more precious than gold.

2016 was the year of ‘what-ifing?’. I literally what if’ed every single thing. What if I could travel the world and not have a home? What if I could make my office view the Caribbean? What if I could work 30 hr weeks instead of 40? What if life did not consist on working your ass off just to pay off your expensive home mortgage? What if I was not give any fucks about how green my front yard lawn looked? I literally put all the cards on the table, facing up. It turns out all I had were Jokers. And so I intentionally chose to go on a nomadic journey. The freedom and simple beauty of it was just too good to pass up. A journey far away from all the rules imposed by our society, the comforts of having a home to nest in, the safety of having a shelter or a fridge full of foods. Was I scared? Terrified. But the regret of not accepting my newly granted world citizenship would have been worse.

So I took Maslow’s pyramid and turned it upside down. Having a permanent shelter decorated with beautiful furniture became no longer my priority, but instead, to fill out every single one of the blank pages on my passport. And so I sold and donated all of my belongings. I wish I could express in writing the pain I felt when I left all of my possessions behind. My heart was literally in pain. And yet when everything was gone, I felt so light that I could fly as high as an eagle, see everything, and be attached to nothing. I can’t even describe how good it felt to realize I barely needed anything, and how beautiful it was to live out of my suitcase. Every day I felt like I was shedding a layer, just like a snake gets rid of its old skin. And that’s exactly when I came to realize that it isn’t you owning things, but instead, things owning you.

Home was no longer to me a tangible structure, but a feeling, a state of mind. Home was in the middle of a jungle, on top of a mountain, swimming under a waterfall, jumping off a cliff right into the Pacific Ocean, rolling down desert dunes, or drinking fresh coconut water under a palm tree. That’s where all the magic happens, far from any comfort zone and anywhere under a shelter full of possessions. And it is where I wanted my story to take place.

What a beautiful thing to have become: ‘a world citizen’. Cruisin’ through hemispheres, continents & time zones. Not to be stuck to one single nationality but instead, to have become a citizen of Planet Earth. If the law said my nationality was Spanish, had I now become Planetearthish? I think that, at some point, I stopped setting my watch to the current time zone. It changed way too often.

Always on the go. Travel. What a great mission. And yet I’ve come to realize that I don’t travel to places. I travel to myself, what an endless quest full of surprises. Every day I’ve outgrown my shell. Like a lobster migrating out of it’s old shell to fit into a larger one. And when I return from being away, I’m never the same person as when I left. Every single one of these passport stamps represents a seal in my heart. Each of the places I’ve visited has shaped me in one way or another. Some have shaken the deepest of my foundations. And all have made me the person who I am today. From the second generations of the African slaves in Costa Rica, to the barely sheltered Nicas.

Meanwhile, thousands and millions of people from all over the world were at Ikea, buying new furniture, making their nests safer and more comfortable. And there I was, homeless. A XXIst century nomad – and oh boy!, what a wonderful feeling. Caring nothing for borders. Finding ‘home’ at any corner of the world. Airports had turned into my sacred space. There I found myself at peace. My definition of happiness meant staring down the plane window and watching the next destination just right down below my feet.

And you? When will you begin that long journey to yourself? Are you living that ‘extraordinary’ life that makes you jump out of bed every morning? Does it give you goosebumps? And if not, will you have the courage to change it? I encourage you to shatter your life into a million pieces, and then glue them back together. Make it shine like gold. Because you only get one. One. Fucking. Life.

According to all known laws of aviation, there is no way that a bee should be able to fly. Its wings are too small to get its fat little body off the ground. The bee, of course, flies anyways. Because bees don’t care what humans think is impossible. Well, you know what I say to that? Then go bee a fucking bee.

Ester Morales

@estermoralesg

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