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Tales from a vagabond life

Since October 2015 I have no permanent home of my own. I have been living at my sister’s house, at a friend’s flat in Zurich, at my parent’s house, at another friend’s in Ticino and travelling: New York, Iceland, Ibiza and Costa Rica.

My stuff is spread in three different homes: my sister’s, my parents and my friend’s in Zurich. Where is my base? Good question. My mum shakes her head saying: “God, she has lost her roots. I wonder what I have done wrong in raising her”. Friends offer me their guest room and sometimes I see a strange look in their eyes. Or maybe I just make this one up.

Anyway, I have three toothbrushes, three iPhone chargers, three tongue scrapers. On the other hand I almost stopped buying clothes, I am more careful when buying food because I don’t have space in the fridge, I spend more time alone, I appreciate the places I go to, I have to stay spontaneous, I see new things in places I know since 30 years and more.

A couple of weeks ago, during a meditation the teacher guided us very wisely to feel our connection to the centre of the Earth, and to feel where our home was. I realised that my home was just and very simply “that” centre of the Earth.

One could argue that it’s easy to feel at ease in this vagabond life of mine: I have a car, a Vespa, enough money and food, I have options where to sleep, my stuff is safe in different homes. Still, I don’t have a home of my own in the classical sense.

This teaches me to focus, to keep the important things with me, to be constantly open to the new things. I am not “settled”, I feel light and open to the change. And I got used to unplanned events, unwanted things happening and to face it, whatever it is. My eyes have to get used to a new light, my nose to a different air, my senses to different sounds and smells.

Even if it’s not always easy, I travel so much that I have a hard time seeing my friends, wash my clothes and do all my paperwork properly, I consider this a gift that allows me to learn so much and to relativize. Ultimately this vagabond life teaches me again to value what I have and to be present. Definitely a gift.

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