love and loss as an eternal nomad

How easy is it to imagine living life on the road, in a whimsical van/truck/camper setup? Moving from one five-star climbing destination to another, forever.

I know it is very easy for me.

I love what I do, and I’ve worked hard to create a life that allows me to do it. Now, I’m the first to admit that there isn’t a lot of compromise to me. I have my goals, I have my schedule, I have my friends. I have what I want. I think.

As I write this, I’m scamming wifi from what used to be the Ahwahnee hotel in Yosemite Valley, where I’ll be for the next week until the alpine clears up in the Sierra. I’ve come straight from Indian Creek and the California Needles, where I was surrounded at all times by a diverse group of intelligent, driven, funny, and motivated climbers. 

I’ve been coaxed into missions I shouldn’t have been on. I’ve led adventures I’ve been exceptionally proud of. I’ve seen sunset, sunrise, and storm cycles in so many beautiful places I can’t count them anymore. 

I’ve decided I hate people who don’t understand the use of the oxford comma – but that’s not particularly relevant, I suppose.

What I am beginning to learn, however, is that there is one relationship I do want to build which I can’t from here (operatively, wherever I happen to be). I haven’t always wanted this, in fact, it’s been a long time since I have. Putting this particular desire (attached to a particular person) into the mix is changing things for me. And I am processing.

This mobile life has come to mean so so much to me. Maybe it even defines me in some ways, I’m not sure. 

See, I feel things now that I haven’t, and I think it might be starting to change the game. I’m struggling to admit it. I sit here on my rest days, siphoning through memories and photos, counting days until I might get to see my partner again, and sometimes it makes me sad. Often it makes me happy. Always it makes me wonder about the choices I have made, which used to just be second nature. 

I wonder how I got lucky enough to find a person who loves me for me, with all the crazy included. He loves and appreciates my independence, my drive, and my discomfort with ‘home’. But we both understand that he doesn’t want this to go on forever, and that I need to give serious consideration to how long I intend to do this for and why.

I love someone, for real now, and half of me wants to build something with him, to have a life to share for a little while. Love is rare and special, and I think it might be a worthwhile gamble. But I feel drawn, as always, to this itinerant lifestyle which I designed. 

I have a choice to make, and I’m struggling with it.


2 thoughts on “love and loss as an eternal nomad”

  1. These decisions are so hard. A couple days ago someone asked me, “What do you need to do both?” They invited me to join “The Land of And”. Do you think you could find a piece of that? I don’t know myself if this place even exists but people say it does. This was a brave post. It was honest, vulnerable, and probably hard to write down. I am glad you wrote it. (See what I did there with the Oxford comma?) 😉

    Liked by 1 person

    1. thank you so much for your thoughts, and for your use of the oxford comma. ;)) thanks for reading and mostly for identifying with these words. i hope that the land of and exists, and am working on finding it. i’ll let you know when i do!


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