We are a movement, a storm of people who spend their lives traveling. We migrate. Not for food, nor warmth, but for survival of another sort. Of the spirit. We seek inspiration, adventure…answers. I seek to know what is home. A place? A people? A purpose? Until then, I will just keep looking. But I’ve found a purpose here, in writing. My life as a story. Through these chapters and changes I am learning myself, my rhythms and needs. That knowledge protects me. It is a weightless shelter I can carry everywhere. It is a home.

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