It’s a Wander-full Life
On my long flight from Berlin to the US this past week, I binged several movies including the latest documentary about Anthony Bourdain which I resonated deeply with. Not because I too love traveling and experiencing new places and cultures as a local instead of a tourist, much like Bourdain proselytized his entire career, but because I resonated with the existential loneliness he seemed to have, an unfortunate side effect of being a wanderer.
Anthony was a wanderer. He loved experiencing the world firsthand, eating street food, drinking with locals, and witnessing both the beauty and the horrors of foreign lands. But when he was wandering he missed the familiarity of home, the intimacy that can only be cultivated when you stay planted somewhere for any given time. He missed his wife and his kid. When he was finally home, however, he enjoyed grilling hot dogs and splashing around in the pool for a while, but it wasn’t long before he began to miss being immersed in another culture.
Because society didn’t support such a lifestyle, Bourdain likely felt existential loneliness, a feeling of never really belonging anywhere — a feeling I’ve had often. I can’t help but think if society was not only more accepting of wanderers (souls who saunter from here to there, who inadvertently act as bridges, ambassadors, bearers of peace offerings, and connectors to other worlds) — but also offered them an honorable space at the table (when they’re home), Bourdain would still be alive.
““Travel changes you. As you move through this life and this world you change things slightly, you leave marks behind, however small. And in return, life - and travel - leaves marks on you. Most of the time, those marks - on your body or on your heart - are beautiful. Often, though, they hurt.””
Wandering is an exiting of the matrix, but it is not necessarily the “better path.” It’s just a path, one that I believe many of us chose before we entered these bodies. The existential loneliness we feel doesn’t have anything to do with the choice we’ve made but with the lack of acceptance - from those we love, the communities we wander into and away from, and most importantly, ourselves.
I recently met with my ex to catch up before I left Berlin. We’d been together for six years and now apart for a year and a half. He’s moved on, has a new girlfriend, and will soon move to Japan and start a family with her. He seems happy which makes me happy.
At dinner though, he subtly started encouraging me to start dating. “Sometimes you have to force it. You might have to go on Tinder or put yourself out there.”
“Maybe I’ll just have lovers in every city,” I smiled coyly.
His face fell, “That’s not what you want. You deserve a partner you can build something with.”
I appreciate his perspective. For him, that’s all he ever wanted. Someone who spoke in “we” instead of “I,” someone who gladly shared a bed with him instead of slinking off to the couch in the middle of the night. But if I am being TRULY honest with myself, I’ve never felt 100% satisfied in a relationship. No matter how much I love the intimacy and closeness of a long-term partnership, part of me always longs to be wild and free, going with my whims, not tied to a place or person. Perhaps that’s a result of the partners I’ve chosen or perhaps this wandering way of being is something I have to accept about myself.
Maybe I’ll never “settle down.” Maybe I’ll never have a family or a partner that lasts more than a few years. Maybe I’ll lean into a community, help cultivate the land for a while, and then drift away before I ever reap the fruits of my labor. And how absolutely beautiful is that?
+ How many places will I get to leave better than I found?
+ How many pairs of eyes will I get to gaze deeply into?
+ How many members of my soul family will I be reunited with?
Because I am not connected to one place, I’ve had to learn how to cultivate a feeling of home and safety from within. And what I’ve found in the process is that the more cozy I make this inner place, the less lonely I feel overall because anywhere I end up becomes my living room, and whoever I’m around, my family. The more time I spend untethering myself from society’s conditioning, the more inviting the world becomes.
And so in 2024, I am making it a goal to fully accept this wandering side of myself and lean into all the beauty this particular life path holds. Because it is truly wonderful.