Wander-ful Writing: Journal Entry from a Self-Proclaimed Hippie


I always thought of myself as a romantic. A hippie, a free spirit, a bohemian, a wandering soul. Maybe it’s the writer in me, but I always pictured my husband and me going on grand adventures, sleeping on the beach and going where the wind blows. The situation we’re in… The couch-hopping, tote-bearing, no-home-having life we currently have… is not what I pictured when I said we were hippies. Every time I daydreamed though I forgot to add the part where we don’t know where we’re sleeping every night, when our next meal is, or who is going to be offended if I ask to take a shower. How many of our friends think we’re big moochers, despite the numbers of times they crashed at our apartment, when it was ours.

Granted, we do have a “home base,” a place to keep our bed and our clothes and our kitty cats. We count ourselves very lucky to have that single thread of stability in this storm. It’s bittersweet, though. It’s not home. It’s not walking around in our underwear playing Tool and smoking cigs at noon. It’s not dragging the mattress out into the living room, eating nachos, and watching Harry Potter for three days straight. We lost so many silly things that really defined our lives. In the strangest way, though, it seems this defines us, too. The struggle is really real. We are the wandering souls. Not just physically, but literally. Allen and I would not let the patriarchy chew us up and spit out what we were supposed to be. We bucked against the system and now is the hard part. We must figure out a way to create our own living. To sustain our selves, without selling our souls.

Last night I was cynical. I was complaining and whining about how miserable I was. This morning I woke up with a cleaning gig on my phone (one of the many ways I make money), I got cat food, smokes, and donuts at the corner store. Allen made coffee. The fact that this morning we all share a tiny bedroom with nickelodeon slime green walls doesn’t seem quite so depressing this morning. This may be a setback, but life’s not over. We’ve seen worse, and we’ve always made it out on top.

There are many beautiful opportunities on our horizon. I think what we’re waiting for is the courage to reach out and take them.


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