“The Journey Itself is My Home”

I often wonder how we humans turn out so different from each other. We are all the same species, same biology, but so different in how we look, what we want, what we dream of, and what we decide to do in life. What works for some of us does not work for others and vice versa. Some people are born with a dream, and they spend their life going after it, always knowing what their goal is. Some people are born with no goal in sight, and they spend their life searching for a purpose. Some people are born in to the belief that there is already a purpose for them predecided by higher forces. Some are born with a purpose, never feeling the need to question it.

There are people who stay their whole lives in one place, feeling no need to travel or move any longer distances, feeling satisfied and in peace with the place and environment they were placed in from the beginning. Then there are people who are constantly restless, constantly searching for something more, something else, not being able to settle down for one option out of fear of missing out on all the other options out there. And there are people who spend years feeling lost, searching and wandering, until at some point they find whatever they were searching for.

What makes the difference between those of us who decide to stay in our home countries, and those of us who decide to leave? And what makes the difference between those of us who decide to leave, and those of us who decided to go for a while and just ended up staying away? There are those who feel home sick after a weeks vacation, and then there are those who maybe don’t feel home sick because they don’t have a one place they consider home. There are those who go on vacation to holiday resorts to lay by the pool and work on the tan all day, and then there are those for whom traveling is maybe not so much a vacation as a way of life.

Maybe we are all born with different kinds souls, and maybe each soul somehow has it’s own needs. Just like plants; some need more water some need less, some need shade some need sun, some grow in the spring some in the fall, some need high latitudes and some need deep forests, some grow alone and some grow in fields of many. Maybe our souls are like plants; all designed for different environments and with different needs and purposes.

Many societies try to teach us that there is a certain way and order in which things need to be done, and by which we should live our lives. There are deadlines to be kept, and goals to reach, and if you happen to be one of those who choose to stand outside of the ordinary, people tend to not take you seriously, thinking that you are going through a phase of some sort, and maybe you will snap out of it one day and settle for the life someone decided you are supposed to live, what ever that life happens to be in the perticular society you are born in to (as different places have different ways of doing things the right way). But what happens if you plant a rose in the desert, or a cactus in the rainforest? There is no one way fits all.

Maybe some of us are born with nomad souls; meant to keep moving. Home doesn’t have to be a steady place. We can live in a house for many years, and still not consider it our home. In the same way we can live in 10 different places, and feel at home the whole way. It all depends on how we define Home, and for some of us home is more of a feeling than a specific place.

When I was a child, I always dreamt about traveling to other countries. My first time in life crossing the borders of my home country Sweden was when I was 19, after having managed to save up some money from my first real summer job. I was in Tunisia for one week with a friend of mine, and I was instantly hooked on the idea of traveling. I spent that coming year working and saving for a bigger trip, planning to be away for between six months up to a year. I went to Chile, to Australia, to New Zeeland, to Israel, to India, back to Israel… I am now soon to be 27, and I have not lived in Sweden for the passed six years. It was never concsiously my plan to stay away, but I guess some part of me had plans I wasn’t fully aware of. Now I have not really considered myself as a traveler for a long time, because for that I feel I have gotten to settled here in Tel Aviv. However, maybe again it all depends on how you define things. What is a trip? What is traveling? Is there a time limit? When are you considered settled down? Maybe life is all one big trip, and the places we go to through life are just stops on the way. What I know is that when ever I imagine my life I am having a very hard time imagining it all in one place, all I see is different places (same planet). After five years living in Israel, considering it my home just like I still consider Sweden my home, I can feel a restlessness in my feet and my mind, telling the nomad in me to go look for the next water hole. Maybe one day, in one place, that restlessness will go away somewhere, and maybe I will build a house and never move again. Or maybe I will always want to keep moving, and maybe that’s okay.


Image source: http://joom.ag/RJzb

We are all travelers in this world; each one of us on our own journey. The more souls we meet, and the more different journeys we come across and learn about, hopefully the less judgemental we become towards those traveling through life in a different manner than we are.