Observations From The Heart of a Nomad.

I’ve always been something of a gypsy….just your run-of-the-mill nomadic hearted girl.  Some of my best years were spent living out of a suitcase as I traveled from Europe to Asia and back to the States for work.

Hop on a plane, fall in love with a city, rinse, repeat.  I never really could’ve imagined that I would end up living a pretty well rooted life after that. I might’ve told you you were crazy for suggesting it….but here I am.

I won’t bore you with the details of how having kids changes your priorities, but I will say that I have missed my life of travel.  Somehow caught in between loving the comfort of being in my own home, and that impetuous desire to be on the road. Conundrum of the soul….but it’s made the few trips I’ve gone on in the past two years mean all the more.  Two visits to my friends in London, and two escapes to smaller towns in my own backyard.

I have always had a little bit of a problem with falling in love with every city I’ve visited and lived in.  Always wanting to taste, feel, and breathe more of it…and never quite having enough time to.  I’ve dreamt of owning homes, no matter how small, in each of the places  in which  I’ve left a shred of my heart…so that I can always go back, call it home, make it mine.  

I have a love affair with big cities, tiny villages, the ocean, the mountains, and the desert….and I don’t know which one to be more faithful to.  Maybe I don’t have to choose. Maybe I’m geographically polyamorous. Yeah…that must be it.

My last trip was to Palm Springs….just got back as a matter of fact, and itching to return to its 7th circle of hell heat, and meticulous perfection.  There’s something about the desert that I love…that calls me.  The solitude, the peace, the alienesque views…..  I’ve been to this little jewel of a town a handful of times in the past decade and every time I fall for it a little more.  

LA is my hometown, my roots….and while I will always be a true blue Angeleno….I know my city is not without its madness.  I’ve written about it before….and can tell you with absolute certainty that my city doesn’t make anyone “bad”…..all those apples were rotten before they got here.  What I can tell you is this….big city life is hurried, and tiring, and teeters on the brink of soullessness.

Horns honk, people yell, streets are dirty, entitlement reigns supreme….and while I’m used to it and know how to avoid the drama for the most part…I appreciate the respite when it comes.

The desert gave me three glorious days of that ever coveted respite.  The 109 degree heat slowed me down…but I needed that. I needed to slow down, physically and mentally.  

To sit for hours in a pool with no deadlines, no worries, no one to answer to.  Time to just walk around downtown laughing with my person, and only having to think about what we wanted to eat for dinner.  We took the aerial tramway up to the San Jacinto Mountains and hiked in cooler temps, while breathing in pure air and forgetting to use our phones.  The sound of traffic and raging humanity replaced by the humming of cicadas.

Absolute freedom.  And it felt great.

Travel is different for me now.  The sense of adventure and butterflies in the stomach of what lays ahead still exists, but I shy away from nightlife, “scenes”, and Vegas-like debauchery.  I left my party days in my 20’s….and happily so.  

My travels now lead me to a glass of wine in the kitchen of a best friend, a cold beer in a bathwater-warm pool, handheld strolls through parks and quaint streets, fireside linguistic battles in mountain town cabins. I like places that make me feel as good as eating my Uncle’s mac and cheese does….and believe me that’s a damned good feeling.

I’ve traveled the world, lived in or visited 24 different countries…but I barely know my own backyard.  If I can’t travel like I used to….at the very least I am going to get to know the State I live in…..and maybe a few others. We’ll see. Ready, set, GO.

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