The Life of a Nomad

“I live in a hotel.”  It’s kind of a strange statement to make and not one that you’ll hear from many people, but in my case, it’s the truth.  Since February I’ve spent 90% of my nights in a hotel.  Those nights not spent in a hotel are usually spent at someone else’s house, sometimes on a bed but occasionally on a couch, somewhere in the country.  In the last two months, I’ve spent weekends in North Carolina, Houston, Des Moines, Atlanta, Seattle, Minneapolis, and Iowa City.  Living in a hotel is a strange experience because it has all the accommodations of a home, but none of it them are yours.  It’s kind of like house sitting for a wealthy friend or being the Guy on the Couch.

What makes it easier for me is that I’ve never been a very materialistic person – in fact I’ve never actually bought furniture – except for that $10 garage sale coffee table that broke a month later.   I would rather spend my money on things like a trip to see family, friends or Amsterdam.  I actually furnished a 5 bedroom house on hand me downs and odds and ends.  As a person who moved every 5 years of his life, I’ve never had a big attachment to “things” and even less so since the first time I lost everything I owned in a house fire.  Losing everything makes you realize that the two most important things in your life are other people and today.  Holding on to “things”, be they as big as a house or as small as an old letter, can keep us too focused on the past and miss the opportunities of today and tomorrow.

While quite a bit has gone on in my life that has allowed me embrace this lifestyle, the main reason I do it is because my job requires me to be in Houston Sunday night to Friday afternoon, yet I don’t actually reside in Texas.  Technically my residence is a house in Davenport, Iowa, that I lived in for 3.5 years.  But I haven’t slept a night in that house since December of 2008.  That’s when my wife and I sold or donated the majority of everything we owned and headed to Mexico for a delayed and extended honeymoon.  It was tough to uproot ourselves after we had finally started to settle into our new life, but it was necessary to insure that we would continue to progress and push ourselves to accomplish new things.  It’s easier to move forward if you have nothing to go back to.

After Mexico we spent a short time in the Chicago area with family and then headed back to Iowa City, Iowa.  Well, actually, my wife headed to Iowa City full time, for 6 months I was there Tuesday morning to Friday afternoon.  Friday night to Tuesday morning, I was in Chicago working and going to school.  It’s a crazy lifestyle and it’s not for everyone but it worked for me, albeit with some caveats.

The worst part about living in multiple locations is that you tend to leave things in one place but need them in another.  Nothing’s worse than leaving your keys for the apartment in Iowa at the house in Chicago or leaving your assignment due in Chicago in your bag at the office in Iowa.  The worst though is probably leaving your power cord you need in Houston in Iowa and then having your wife mail it to the hotel you stayed in last week but are not in this week.  While that can get frustrating the best part about moving frequently and living in multiple locations is that you start to strip down to owning just the necessities.  You learn that if it can’t be moved in one trip with a truck and trailer than it wasn’t meant for you to have it.  That foosball table, gone, the spare parts you never used for your car, gone, that bike you bought three years ago but never rode, gone.  In today’s consumer driven society, not owning a lot of “things” definitely makes you the odd man out at the party, but there are definite benefits to it.

In the last two years we’ve slowly managed to get rid of 90% of what we once owned.  Furniture has been shipped off to friends and family – it’s now dispersed randomly from Phoenix to Chicago.  Anything without sentimental value was sold or donated and all that remains are clothes, a bed, a desk, a LoveSac, about 15 boxes containing two people’s personal histories and a slew of wedding gifts still in their boxes after almost three years.  Ignoring those boxes in storage, I fit about 75% of what I own in two suitcases a garment bag, a backpack and a portable folder box.  Why the box?  Well you need somewhere to store all those things you buy over time that you don’t want to buy again – you know the usual; Band-aids, Bounce, Adobo, Disc Gold Disc, Nyquil, Febreeze, Tide-to-Go, nothing out of the ordinary.

Every Sunday night I arrive in Houston, get to my hotel, and unpack and every Thursday night I pack it all back up so I can leave on Friday.  I’m sure the packing and unpacking can be seen as an exercise in futility but to me it’s just a reminder that because I own so little, who I am can never be explained through the things I own.  The things I own tell you little about my travels or the people I’ve met.  They tell you even less about the work I’ve accomplished, the people who have impacted my life or where I may be 6 months from now.  In the end, I think the path I take and the journey’s I’ve had, will be far more interesting than the things I collected along the way.

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