[Molly Radio: There Will Be Time - Mumford & Sons]
Three years ago yesterday, I was laying in my relatively sparse apartment on the Upper West Side. Having just moved in that day, I promptly assumed a starfish-like position on the hardwood floor, and stared at the ceiling - marveling at the moment. The room was infused with one of Bach’s Cello Suites (Molly Radio) and peppered with cardboard boxes. That moment was the culmination of a decade’s worth of dreaming, working and luck. Dreaming of moving to New York, having just such an apartment in just such a neighborhood and beginning my life at the ripe age of 30.
I shed a few tears of relieved joy for the excitement of it all. I looked at the ceiling. The dream was done. On to the next.
Yesterday, I looked around the same apartment, after many a furniture experiment, art hung on the walls, dog hair and dust in the corners, light pouring in through the windows, so much life lived and it was empty yet again. My remaining few possessions in the back of a minivan on the street; Bear not-so-patiently waiting to be on our way.
How did I get here?
The answer that arises from my atoms when I look at that question is - (shrug) I just did. I became. And I came here, to this moment. It began with another dream - to live wherever I want for however long I want. To double down on this nomadic heart of mine and see where it leads me. The instant I believed that dream possible was the day I decided. It was the day I started moving my feet to this moment. Six months later, I have sold the majority of my material possessions, stored what is precious, packed what is necessary and set off. Intentionally houseless. I have some plans, but not many. All, some or none of them could come to fruition.
What am I hoping for on this journey?
More of that which is truly sacred in life.
Maybe there’s a list. Maybe there’s nuance. I’m looking forward to finding out. For now, I’ll start with connection, joy and trees.