Technically I am homeless. No, I am not living in a tent in Central Park. I don't ride the El all night when it gets below freezing. My meal times do not revolve around when the daily trash is taken out at Whole Foods (although I may eat better and cheaper). I don't wash car windows at intersections, or beg for money outside Macy's.
I do live in a van, with my dog Hemingway. I live on the road. My address lies in GPS coordinates that border the Atlantic Ocean to the east, Canada to the north, the Great Lakes to the west, and the Mason Dixon Line to the south. I sleep when I get tired, shower when I can find one (even facets at rest areas work well I've found), spend countless hours at coffee shops using wifi (I think caffeine may have replaced the majority of my red blood cells), and all along the way meet some amazing individuals and see some incredible scenery.
Typical thought process: Why would I choose to do this? Am I running away from something? Was there some scarring moment in my childhood that made me never want to settle down? The answers: I feel I need to, no, and no.
I have not always lived this way. In 31 years I have experienced life from the Midwest, to the east coast, to the west coast, to the Rockies all from the comfort of a climate controlled, permanently grounded structure. I've had normal jobs, been involved in normal activities, and lived life in typical American normal form.
As I entered my 30's I realized that I was almost as uninspired and unsatisfied as I was when I was trying to "find myself" in my 20's, and I was pretty sure of myself by this point. So I decided to take this almost complete person on the road to try to find that last little piece of the puzzle. It's that tiny part of me that is still slightly buried, yet also known to me on some level. It gnaws at my gut every once in while when I see someone doing something particularly inspiring or read something that makes me want to get up and do something. I guess I figured it's a little easier to get up and do something when I don't have a comfy couch to lounge on while watching all the newest reality TV shows.
My job allows me to be able to choose this path, and still afford to live the life I've become accustomed too. I'm no martyr. I don't need to give away everything, live off scraps, and drive around in a '68 Bus (although I would love one). I have a dog to feed, a life to live, and fun to be had. After all, this buried piece of me needs to be coaxed out, possibly even bribed.
So this is my journey, as I have chosen it. In the words of the great Ernest Hemingway, "The shortest answer is doing the thing." So off I go.
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