There is just one rule, and honestly, it’s more of a guideline.
MAKE THE RULES UP AS YOU GO ALONG.
The great thing about writing a guidebook for wanderers, when the rules are made up as I wander, is there is also no specific path to follow. I finally settled on calling myself a wanderer because I am purposefully traveling without any set goal in mind, except to experience life and reintroduce me to me. I have given up my apartment, given away or sold most of my material possessions, and quit my job.
I called myself a bunch of different terms as I was leading up to this point, trying to find the one that fit, but my friends and I kept Googling definitions or taking polls of what people thought a word meant. Some examples:
GYPSY – I’d have to steal and do sorcery. (I can’t pronounce latin… wingardium leviosum… I think)
NOMAD – I’d have to wear a turban and herd some form of livestock. (I’d probably forget to feed them and they would die)
Hippie – I’d have to smoke pot and stop washing my hair. (Eww)
Walk-About – I’d have to wander in the Australian Outback and possibly take Peyote (50/50 agreed on the latter point). (It’s expensive to go to Australia and is Peyote even legal???)
Vagabond – Negative Connotations – Steals stuff too apparently (I just got rid of my material posessions, why would I want more?)
Homeless – Now this is the one term that SO SO SO many of my friends have agreed upon. Vic has gone crazy! Is she Suicidal? She would never do this kind of thing. It’s just a dream or a joke. I may not have a single address to return to each day, but I have so much more as those same people have made sure I know I am welcome to stay with them as I travel. My home is where my heart is… with each of my friends and family who care enough to be worried.
It really has felt like people found this to be an impossible move. Though a lot of that may have also been my internal psyche. I am so average and responsible it is almost funny. I have always held a job, been the one to ensure the bills got paid, taken care of my own business with very little help from others. It didn’t make me happy though, it never brought peace to my life. So I have finally realized I have to do something so spontaneous, so off the wall, and so unlike me, in order to find me, find happy, and really LIVE my life. So, in spontaneous fashion, 12 weeks ago I started planning my escape. I am nothing if not detailed.
About 8 weeks ago I realized that I should have not set this 12 week plan in place. 4 weeks ago I was chomping at the bit to run free in the fields. 3 weeks ago I just left for a week to go clean up a disaster zone, because I was ready for this. The last two weeks were manageable but partially unbearable. I got down to the wire with closing out the apartment. I have these two little beings inside me, not the typical angel/devil combination. I call them Princess Bitch and Wild Woman. You’ll get to know them more as I wander. Needless to say, they are not friends and were fighting over actually leaving or not. For someone so average to take such a risk, well that’s not only stressful for those around me, it was internally stressful.
At some point during the last 12 weeks I realized that I really hate planning ahead for things, so I am taking them as they come. Thanks to Team Rubicon and storm season things are moving quite quickly in to place and I am just being fluid.
Here I am though. The apartment is closed out, my stuff is packed, and people are waiting on the edge of their seats to see what I do next. You’ll just have to check back tomorrow to see where my wandering takes me.
Signing Off from Marion, IA