Confessions of a Digital Nomad

One of the amazing things about extended travel is the way it forces you to think and reflect. And I’m not talking about the boring, accidental reflections that happen on friday nights after a week of work with the help of a couple beers. I’m talking about real reflecting, existential shit.

When you’re settled at home, living in a city you know well, and hanging out with the same people you’ve hung out with for years, it’s easy for months to go by without even thinking about what you’re doing. And when you do finally stop to catch a breath and allow those feelings of unfulfillment and longings for more to bubble up into your consciousness, it’s easy to let your mind override your heart and push them back down. Your mind is pleased with your nice apartment and the expensive things you’re able to buy.

However, when you leave all of this behind, put everything you own on your back, and dive into the unknown, it’s no longer possible to avoid these thoughts. Nothing is familiar or comfortable anymore so your brain isn’t able to go into autopilot. You’re forced to be fully aware of your feelings and everything that’s happening around you. You’re forced to ask yourself a lot of questions. What do I really need in life? What is the point of all of this? What am I working towards? Who am I? Am I happy? What would make me happy? You’re constantly surrounded by new ways of living, new ways of thinking. There’s nothing to restrict your thoughts anymore, no societal scaffolding to facilitate the building of your life.

This releases you from the assumptions you’ve grown up assuming and you’re forced to re-evaluate the way you see everything. You realize that anything and everything is possible.

I had never felt more lost. I didn’t have the answers to any of the questions I was asking myself.

I did still have my job with the company I’d been working at for over a year. One last connection to the world I left behind. But I could now see that it had become nothing more than a job, a way to make some money. It wasn’t answering any of these questions for me, so I quit.

Now I was truly free, and truly lost. It was just me, my thoughts, and the world. It sounds awesome, doesn’t it? And at times it is. But at times it also really isn’t. These existential questions seem to form the base for all of your thoughts, and when the base is this shaky it’s hard to think about anything else. I’ve been laying on an amazingly beautiful remote Nicaraguan beach, and all I could think about was how I have no idea what I wanted to do with my life. I’ve been on the top of a mountain with a 360º view of Barcelona, and all I could think about was whether I’m ever going to find my true passion. And today I’m in the heart of Lima, and I’m sitting in a coffeeshop writing an article about how lost I feel.

But after months of feeling like this I’ve realized something. That deep feeling of unfulfillment that I used to feel is nowhere to be found. Same with that longing for something more. I’ve had no feeling of disappointment in myself for doing work I don’t like. I may not know exactly what my dreams are, but at least I’m looking for them. At least I’m eliminating the things that I know aren’t making me happy. I’m making a commitment to myself to work on meaningful things and do what I love. It seems like the only place to start.

I’ve given my heart the keys to the car. And even though it will probably take some wrong turns before it finds the road it’s supposed to be on, as long as it’s driving I will never truly be lost.