Sometimes people ask me where i live, and i don’t really know what to say—not because i’m travelling, because i don’t really feel like i’m doing that anymore. I mean i’m moving around a lot, but it’s not like a holiday or something, it’s my way of life now—i travel, therefore i am.
So i don’t know what to say because it seems sarcastic to say i live in the world, but that’s how i feel.
If i wanted to get really sarcastic i could say, Right now i’m living at Sunay’s breakfast place—later i’ll be living on the ferry to Kadikoy.
But actually this is less sarcastic and more truthful than anything i could say about the places where i sleep at night from day to day, because what’s important is not where you live (what building, what city), but how you live—that you live, and that you live wherever you go.
I have changed my plans again, this time to stay in Greece for a few more months because i have a sense of home here, now. Something shifted when i decided to stay, which wasn’t as much a decision as it was a relinquishment, a letting go of some idea i had about the future.
I was going to Thailand and India via Australia, China, Laos and a few other places in between: back to Australia to get Mulga Bill Massive, my poor neglected touring bike, so i could cycle around in search of another community.
But around the thought of leaving Greece there was a feeling of an anxiety, which fell away when i knew i wouldn’t yet have to go back through Istanbul, Dubai, Adelaide, just to get my bike and ride to Byron or somewhere. I need community, communion, and here i have it, now, so why leave? Leaving a community in Greece to go in search of a community elsewhere is like going into a shop with a dollar and asking to buy a dollar.
When i realised this, the anxiety fell away and relief emerged, bright and luminous as the stars appear to be when you get out of the city for the first time.