Not all who wander are lost.
I was told recently that in this lifetime I’m supposed to find my home. To stay grounded and make roots. If that is the case, I’m 100% failing at life. My suitcase is always on standby. I can’t seem to stay put. My life is a bit of a merry-go-round at Disney or a revolving door on Wall Street. In the last week, I have made three major travels plans that all involve my passport. Insert giant firework finale HERE. Bye L.A. traffic! Bye Felicia! Bye America! You know how girls are when they haven’t seen each other in a long time and everything stops while they do this weird dramatic hug accompanied by high-pitched screaming thing? My heart is basically doing that on loop. I’m a wanderer, I always have been. Guilty as charged and then some. So call me a failure.
I’m not sure what I love more. Traveling or being on vacation. There’s a difference. Or maybe I just don’t like working like 95% of working Americans. You ever meet those people who love their job? It’s always like, hmmm, what’s the like? You don’t come home from work and drink 4 bottles of wine just to bring yourself back to life after a shift? That must be so interesting for you. Believe me, I want to be that annoying person who loves her job and I will be one day, but until I have my blue-dress bonfire just let me live my life in detestation a little bit okay? And I’m not delusional. I know that this job, which literally gives me nightmares, pays my bills and provides a lot of flexibility for what I like to think is a pretty great life. It has its purpose most definitely. My Uber driver, who I’m pretty sure was sent to me by a higher force yesterday, noticed I wasn’t too keen on going to work and gave me a little pep talk before she would let me out of the car. “You get in there and get yo money!!! Go get yo money!” So thank you, Andrea from Compton – you lit up my world and said exactly what I needed to hear. Angels all over the place I tell ya.
Being a wanderer is hard – mentally, physically and financially. My mind is rarely ever in one place. I am constantly pulled in a thousand different directions. I feel like I’m already juggling a thousand things with a million other things on standby. I just have so much stuff I wanna do and see and explore. Finding the balance has been a bit of a struggle for me. People have suggested that I meditate and I’m like – I’m supposed to sit there for how long? Clear my mind? Have you been up there? That’s not a 20 minute job. It’s like Cirque du Soleil put on by kindergartners with no safety precautions. It’s too much. Is this what it’s like to have multiple children? ‘I can’t give YOU all of my focus or Lizzy ends up using the toilet as a hot spring for her Barbies. Greg! Where is Greg! Has anyone seen Greg?! Mallory put that down, that is mama’s juice. Lizzy, go find your brother. Did I just hear broken glass? Greg!! Mallory, that is not Kool-Aid! Spit it out. When is the last time anyone saw Greg?!’ Jim Gaffigan said having five kids was like drowning and then someone hands you a baby. That basically sums up my life…minus the kids.
What I’m learning as I get older is that every single person has their own crazy going on. We all have so much more in common than we will ever let ourselves believe. For as many stories, adventure and love that I’ve found in this lifetime, that person has just as many if not more. I came across this word and wanted to share. I am pretty sure someone just made it up on Urban Dictionary but I think it’s super beautiful and worth spreading.
Sonder (v.): the realization that each random passer-by is living a life as vivid and complex as your own
So I’ve really put a lot of thought into this recently. I live here in L.A. but I’m not tied to it. I could move at a moment’s notice and that’s just the kind of lady I am right now. Someday I’ll settle down and build a fence when I’ve found my absolute oasis but until then, my home isn’t tied to an address or a place you can find on the GPS. Perhaps I find my home in people, their eyes, their hearts and their stories. They say home is where the heart is and I leave little pieces of mine everywhere I go. Maybe I find home in the laughter and love around me. That’s my kind of home. Maybe I’m not lost. Maybe this isn’t my way of escaping but rather my way of living. My home is anywhere under the stars and I’ve got an awful long way to go. To sondering and wandering. Forever & Always. xx