Nomadic Identity

I’m noticing a thing about nomad life: You have to be so much more careful protecting your identity. Everything you do becomes who you are.

If you go hiking, you’re a nature enthusiast. If you try vegan restaurants, you’re edgy. If you check out a few bars, you’re living on the wild side.

This era of appearances can make the truth a bit harder to see. Sometimes, it’s downright invisible.

What you cannot rely on as a nomad is the convenience of reputation. Instead, people are seeing you for who you present at face value. And that, you can imagine, may not always be in the ideal light.

You don’t get a friend-pass because folks know you don’t handle conflict well. You don’t get a girl-pass because the moon and the influx of feminine energy is is effin with your insides. You don’t get a black-pass for not wanting to do black shit every day.

Familiarity has its perks. It doesn’t take twice as long to tell a story because you have to fill them in with all the background details. Instead, trust flows like water. Suspicions are reduced. So when you happen to do something “out of character” the handy compilation of history comes through with a caption to remind people, “Oh, Dani’s just having a moment.”

But as a nomad, you don’t get that moment to behave strangely with no consequences. Each moment is your social responsibility, and social responsibility is quite a responsibility when adding a layer of newness to the equation.

It’s fantastic meeting new people. I love listening to folks’ story because everyone has one, and no two are alike.

But. I might not want to be held to my social decisions a year from now. Maybe I made a left when I should have gone right, figuratively speaking. We are all trying out different turns in life, and everyone’s GPS is in a different language.

The thing about a story is we are each writing ours exactly the way we want it told. Sometimes, we exaggerate, but we’re hopefully mostly telling the truth. [Mind you, whether we like it or not, personality and energy speak well before our mouths. smile]
Just a part of being human.

[Sidebar:: The key is finding someone who is telling their story as authentically as possible.
Finding as many someones trying to not only live in their truth but speak in their truth as well. This, I’ve come to learn, is not easy. But, I think the closer you endeavor to be your own authentic self you will attract like-energy.]

The bright side is being a nomad affords you the chance to tell your story as often as you like, and change it when you want to start over.

I’m discovering my identity, and how I want to tell my story. That’s what I came for. That’s what I left for. Not to get caught up in generalizations. Not to get distracted by the same western problems. Not to confine my mind, my body, or my soul into any box – literal or figurative.

I didn’t leave America to form or subscribe to generalizations. Nor did I go to be filed under any.

I left to learn. I left to expand. I left to transform.

From the outside looking in, some of my actions may not have looked like the best choices. Some were, some were not. But, I’m new at this solo-traveling, nomad life so I’m giving my own self a pass.

Mistakes are allowed. Without them, we don’t learn. Without learning, we are bound to repeat.
So now, I prefer to describe life as a custom pathway. Not a racetrack.

My task: Control the pace.