I am growing tired of this life, and in the short distance I sense a new world on my horizon. Since I’ve no pull in anyone direction, I feel am becoming accustomed to this perpetual fall. But soon I suspect this momentum will carry me home. People ask me, “where are you living nowadays?” I tell them the truth. Well, first I laugh–if for no other reason than to celebrate the absurdity of my current circumstances. But then I tell them: I don’t really have a home right now and I’m becoming okay with that. “Well where are you sleeping?” They ask. “Wherever. Here and there.”
For a long time I have regarded things like a lease or a job as weights–burdens–shackles, ball, and chain. I have avoided their grasp. Allowed myself the space to wander without certain aim. My aim is inward. The direction of growth. Learning. Evolving my person. It is a matter of striving to be the best human I can be. To make the most of this mess we call life. And while I may not know where my physical home is, I know where my etheric home is; I know that I can always pursue higher plateaus of self. Wherever I roam, the journey remains essentially the same: be a good person, embody my joy, humble myself before the mirror of others. And be present for what I’m in contact with. That’s all there is really.