When a friend recently told me that she has learned to write my address in pencil, I laughed. I have been told this a few times. It is true - I have moved over 30 times in 35 years! But what really struck me was the irony: despite all of that moving, I’ve stayed in some places for years. Three years here, two years there. It doesn’t seem to add up, does it? But that’s the story of my life - a blend of wandering and settling, of creating home and leaving it behind.
A Nester and a Wanderer
My mom was a nester, happiest in her familiar surroundings, while my dad was the quiet wanderer. My mom was happy at home and a nervous driver. While my dad lived for the open road. As a WWII vet, a construction worker in Morocco, and a truck driver across California, Oregon, and Washington, he was always on the move until later in life. He even took me on short trips when I was little, which is probably where I got the bug. I remember taking a family road trip once to New Jersey. My dad was alive in those moments, smiling and free. Below is a picture of him and our dachshund, Benji, looking at the Atlas. (No GPS in those days!) My mom? Not so much. She loved being at home, having visitors, enjoying family time, and loved Norman Rockwell. She even had his books and two throw blankets with his prints.
The Freedom to Spread My Wings
It was actually my dad who gave me my wings - twice. The first time was when he encouraged me to study in Spain, pushing me despite the fact that he was in the hospital with a blood clot and it didn’t look good. I remember him grabbing my arm (still a strong man!) and saying… “You’re going! I’ll be here when you get back.” My mom was beside herself about me going to Spain to study, but my dad said that I would regret it for life if I didn’t. He was right! And he did survive and lived another 15 years! What a guy - thanks, Dad.❣️
Studying abroad was a life-changing experience, and I’m so glad that he had the understanding and pushed me on that path. I was able to travel to 7 countries - mostly by myself. I met some friends in Paris and Rome, and I traveled around Spain with friends from my university. Other than that, I got a Eurail train pass and headed out alone. I can’t even explain the pull, but it’s still there decades later.
The second time I spread my wings was after my dad passed. While he and my mom were alive, I always lived close to home. However, this was the moment that I was free to spread my wings anywhere. Would I rather they still be alive and with me? Absolutely! But now I really started to venture out, transferred to Texas with my company, and started my jaunts across the country. My mom liked to stay rooted, but my dad’s spirit of wanderlust lives on in me. I carry his belief in exploring the world, even when it means letting go of what is familiar.
Packing Light, Living Fully
Repeatedly moving teaches you a few things. For one, I’ve learned to make my apartments feel homey and welcoming - thank you, Mom.❣️ No matter where I go, I create a space that feels like mine - even if I know I won’t stay long. But I’ve also learned that the older I get, the less I need. I don’t want to carry a lifetime of belongings across oceans, so I’ve donated or given away most of what I own.
Letting go of material possessions feels freeing. It’s as if I’m untethering myself from the past, making space for what’s ahead. In a way, I’ve realized that “home” isn’t tied to things. It’s tied to memories, to the feeling of being grounded (even temporarily), and sometimes, it’s just knowing you’re on the right path - even if that path is winding and unpredictable.
In learning to let go, I have found inspiration in the following books:
Spark Joy by Marie Kondo (she has many more books now)
This book helped me embrace the process of decluttering and organizing, teaching me to focus on items that "spark joy." Through Kondo's method, I’ve learned to let go of material possessions that no longer serve me or bring me happiness. The KonMari method encourages a deep sense of gratitude for the items I choose to keep and an acknowledgment of how they once played a role in my life. It has inspired me to view possessions not as burdens, but as something that should bring positivity and alignment with my current goals.
The Gentle Art of Swedish Death Cleaning by Margareta Magnusson
Magnusson’s approach to decluttering is more than just about cleaning out spaces—it's about preparing for the future while lightening our emotional and physical load. This book helped me to approach the act of letting go with a sense of peace, knowing that it's a practical and compassionate act for anyone who has to clean up after you when you’re gone from this world.
I also believe that photos and music are important treasures. To keep them close while traveling light, I bought a lifetime subscription to pCloud, where I have started to upload all of my pictures and CDs. What a project! But the reward will be that they are with me wherever I go. They won’t weigh me down - or risk being lost or stolen. And I can see my pictures or listen to my music on my phone, iPad or computer.
Roots vs. Wings
Most people I know love having a permanent home, a place filled with family and familiarity. But for me, that hasn’t really been an option. (Plus I have to admit that I get bored pretty quickly.) With my parents and close family passing when I was still fairly young, I’ve never really felt tied to one place. Instead, I have leaned into the freedom to move, to explore, and to redefine “home” on my own terms.
One final thing… just be You! If you get negative comments or if people don’t understand you, let them. They don’t have to get it - as long as you do. 💖 Will I ever settle down? Maybe. Maybe not. But if I do, it won’t be because I think I need something permanent. It will be because it feels right - like “home.”
Until then, my friends, my address should be written always in pencil. 📝😁🫶💫
As Natasha Bedingfield sings:
I break tradition
Sometimes my tries are outside the lines
We've been conditioned to not make mistakes
But I can't live that way
Staring at the blank page before you
Open up the dirty window
Let the sun illuminate the words that you could not find
Reaching for something in the distance
So close you can almost taste it
Release your inhibitions
Feel the rain on your skin
No one else can feel it for you
Only you can let it in
No one else, no one else
Can speak the words on your lips
Drench yourself in words unspoken
Live your life with arms wide open
Today is where your book begins
The rest is still unwritten!
“Unwritten” by Natasha Bedingfield, from the album Unwritten. © 2004 Photogenic-Epic.
