Living the way of the nomad. Year6.
Winter in a tiny tiny house in the forest in New Hampshire.
The last time I had a proper house with walls, roof, a bathroom and a kitchen was in the year 2015. I was in New York City working the business executive life. From that point on, I took a dive into a the vastness of the unknown and settled in a variety of minimalist nomadic houses that have included an off grid yurt, several tiny houses, and my camper. I have lived in farms, campsites, eco-villages, people's gardens and nature parks from the west coast to the east.
I never planned for a life like this and I had no idea when I started that I'd be still in the nomadic way of life so many years later. What started as an adventure has become a lifestyle that has forever changed my way of life and seeing the world. I’ll share what each one has brought to my life.
The Trailer
There was a point in my life where for some reason I took a vow to never try the RV/Camping life. I didn't get why people did it and it didn't attract me. The first time I walked into a camper was when I walked into mine and I bought it. This year marks the 6th year of having and living in the camper and I feel I can say it's one of the things that have most marked my life. I've traveled across borders of countries, provinces and states. It's been on the Atlantic, as well as the Pacific. Mountains, beaches, parks, farms, state parks, reserves, deserts. You think it, it's been there.
It's a white box with wheels, but to me it's been the spaceship in the cosmos of my journeys. It's kept me safe when I needed a roof over my head. It's helped me feel cozy when I was alone, and it has also served as a great family home. I’ve launched businesses within its walls, received the inspiration to start painting and writing again inside it, cooked great meals, began my yoga practice, and done the bulk of my self growth in it. When I walk inside it every time all I remember are the many good memories I've had in it, and the many good friends that have been a part of its journey.
In the middle of nowhere going to the middle of nowhere.
The magic of a camper is that wherever you land, your entire home is there alongside you. No need to unpack, check in, bring suitcases, find your toothbrush or rush to do anything. When everything you own is with you all you have a to do is take out a lawn chair and relax. Camping life is slow rich life.
Camping on the Pacific Highway in California brings rich memories.
Living in a camper means that every single object you have must be there for an important reason. All of my favorite things were with me at all times— that included my art supplies, my bikes (a foldable city bike, and a road bike), my projector to watch movies and documentaries, a yoga mat, a good portable speaker, a blender to make smoothies, all my coffee equipment to make amazing coffee, and all the bar equipment that was required to make a small private cocktail party.
A camper that is kept tidy and clean can be one of the coziest house experiences you can have. I truly adore my little camper and I highly recommend that everyone try it at least once in your life. Having a mobile home that is ready to go on any adventure with you is a must on any respectable bucket list.
Tiny Houses.
Tiny house forest living; not for amateurs.
The tiny houses I lived in had the title of 'house' only as a compliment. The reality was that they were closets with a roof, three windows and a door placed in the middle of the forest. Inside they had enough space for a single bed, a chair on the floor and some clothes. They didn't have a bathroom or running water. They were tiny, tiny houses.
I like small spaces. I think they are cozy but these tiny houses were one of the most extreme living experiences I've ever had. On a winter storm I would open the door at 2am to take a leak and all of the cold would dash in the house in one second while I froze my sausage outside. Sometimes when I would come in from work late at night the gas stove would have turned off from the wind. After struggling to turn it back on it would take about two hours to heat the house back again to a decent temperature. In the early cold spring, dozens of sleepy wasps would crawl in through the roof and even though they appeared drunk from and harmless from the cold, not everyone that would be O.K. with staring at 10 wasps on the ceiling of their room. Oh and my bed was covered in ladybugs, but as you know that's just 'pure luck'. At the end of winter, I was feeling rough from the experience, and being able to open the doors to feel the warm spring sun felt like the prison doors had been open.
The positive side of this was that I had a very affordable house in a small eco-village that was cute, full of nice people, and which had shared amenities like hot showers, an outdoor jacuzzi and a cozy communal kitchen to cook things and escape the closet. As an affordable living option I think it was a very beautiful way to offer people in transition (divorce refugees, students, or the unemployed) a place to live their current life phase with dignity.
The lesson the tiny house experience left with me was that regardless of how adventurous and adaptable we like to think of ourselves we all have an actual limit of comfort and a set of basic living necessities that we need to maintain in order to be happy and functional. I would love to try living on a bigger proper tiny house one day.
The Yurt
"A yurt is a portable, circular dwelling made of a lattice of flexible poles and covered in felt or other fabric. Yurts have been the primary style of home in Central Asia, particularly Mongolia, for thousands of years.” -National Geographic
I've been in my yurt for a year now and it's been one of the most magical experiences of my life. In essence, it's a tent in the forest, so my life is permanent camping with all the amenities and comforts of home. The walls of the yurt are fabric and every morning I wake up with all the sounds of the birds of the forest bathing me. As I write this, the heavy rain pounces on the yurt making for a dreamy writer's cottage. Cozy doesn't even cut it.
A standard house is a box full of squares— rooms with predetermined functions like the "living" and "dining" room which force you to outfit them as everyone does. A yurt is circular and open like a bird's nest, which forces you to really consider well what you really want to do with you space like a bird's nest.
In winter the temperature is regulated through a wood stove that sits in the center of the yurt. The stove is the heart of the yurt and it makes it feel truly alive. Because a yurt is not completely insulated the only way to keep the yurt warm is to keep the fire going. Modern wood stoves are very efficient and can maintain a fire for a long time, but in practicality I had to feed the stove wood every 3-4 hours between October until May. Chopping and carrying wood was a daily task that brought a routinely romantic element to living which I really enjoyed.
The fire of a wood stove emanates very clean heat that feels energetic and makes you feel alive. I usually succumb to season affective disorder in a rough winter because I’m a man of the sun but this year it did not affect me. Even though the yurt was surrounded by 2 feet of snow and massive blowing snow storms I could be shirtless and barefoot doing yoga inside my yurt every day. I had a pot of water on top of the wood stove at all times so the humidity in the yurt was absolutely perfect. The vaporized water helps maintain the heat inside so my skin never dried out like it usually does in winter inside normal homes with traditional oil or electric heating.
The wood stove was also my kitchen and every dish I cooked in winter was prepared on top of it. Making eggs and bacon on the same fire that is keeping you warm in the morning is quite special. I also heated the water for my coffee on the stove which made coffee in the morning even more magic.
Now that summer is here I enjoy not having to wake up in the middle of the night to feed the fire. Instead I now open the 6 big windows so that the air and sounds of the forest can come in and out as they please. A nap in the yurt is therapy.
Living alternatively opens you up. It forces you to rethink what you really are and how you want to spend your time. Limited space imposes minimalism and cuts back on consumerism. Mobility keeps you agile and fresh, and low expenses make you richer in reverse by having to work less intensely to make mortgages and rent payments for housing that is beyond our means.
My daughter and I have both embraced and enjoyed the many adventures of the nomadic life.
It’s a way of life that I am grateful to share with her to this day.
A world full of houses that consume electricity and water and produce waste is not the future, the problems of the future will get solved by changing how we live. The house of the future should be off grid and should not just be environmentally friendly but human-friendly. Living small is not a downgrade, the much lower cost of living is an upward movement in your finances and thus allow you to spend more time with the people you love doing the things you adore. The house of your dreams is not just a place to be safe, it's a place to bloom and let your art and dreams be born and grow.
