Soon I will be moving again. There isn’t much to move, just what fits in my car. But it’s become a process where I lay down my roots deeply, then sever them and move on. Wherever I land, I immerse myself there completely, knowing my time is limited. It is a rich and authentic way of being. I'm so very thankful for the incredible friends I've made along the way and beautiful places I've explored and hiked. Parts of me are always left behind... like a trail of breadcrumbs or trail blazes through a wilderness showing where I’ve been and the way back should I want to return. You get to know where all the gas stations and overnight stops are along the interstates. I try not to look back, keeping my eyes and focus forward… I take everything I need with me in my car, and tucked away in my heart and my memories. For a year and a half, home has been wherever my feet are... which lends itself to a very present and mindful way of living. It is simplicity and minimalism at its best. Much of my year plus gypsy life has been spent along the sea, and the sound of waves and water have become as familiar as my own breath. And as necessary... A friend joked with me that I'm creating millions of new neural pathways in my brain with my everchanging new surroundings and routines I must learn. That thought makes me smile! With all the constant changes and new landscapes, I began meditating to ground myself. It has become a life changing daily habit and way of life. Often, I'm asked if I get tired of wandering and living like this. Sometimes I do. Sometimes I desperately miss my garden, and the wonderful ordinary sameness of each day and a routine so deep it becomes a rut. But those moments are fleeting and they pass. And I realize the highway has become a well known friend. I know I will settle down and nest again… But there will always be a wanderer within waiting to see what’s around the next turn.