The First Lesson of the Road

Illuminati Bar (still)

I've always had a problem with not having a place to call my own. I like to have a place where I can move into, leave my stuff, lock it up, and call it mine.

The first part of summer was particularly trying on this level. Moving out of my dorm room, then to my mom's house, then to my dad's house, then to Venice, then to Rome, then to London, then to the WaDuke, then to my mom's house, then to my dad's house, then to Shane and Braxton's couch, then to a DC hotel, then to Kyle's floor, then to Wannamaker, then to Kilgo. It was tough and I never felt like I had a place.

On the Road, you can never stay more than one night in a city, as I've referenced earlier. Even if you only walk to the next city, it's still a new place 8 km from the last. But I am now learning to accept it.

I am with myself, with my backpack, and with my Camino Family, and it doesn't matter that my bed and my room is constantly changing. My idea of a place of my own is shifting from something outside of myself to something inside of myself, and that makes me happy. I'm comfortable considering my body--my own flesh and blood-as my place, instead of something physical.

And I think this is the First Lesson of the Road.