I’ve spent the last two years as a full-time #digitalnomad. For those of you unfamiliar with the term, it means that I traveled with no permanent home-base (nomad) and worked from my laptop (digital) as an attorney.
At the beginning of the experience, I was literally living in and out of my little Honda CRV, embracing van life as much as I could without a van. I was rarely in one place for more than a few days. (see everywhere I stayed in my first five months here). And I was more than OK with that, in fact, I loved it!
I was so invigorated by waking up in different places that I wasn’t ready to decide on a home base after three months. So, the adventure that I told people would be three months turned into 5 months, turned into a year, turned into two.
But it evolved along the way. Slowly, my stays in places got longer, transitioning from days to weeks to months, and I continued to stay in the same places over and over again. My last digital nomad stay was three months in one AirBnB– unheard of at the beginning of my travels.
…and now, two years after launching my journey, I’m ending it. I’m ready to commit to living in Portland, Oregon, with extended Florida visits for mental sanity. (I mean, I spent over a decade living at the beach…I need sunshine breaks to stay sane during Portland’s notoriously gray misty winters.)
In characteristically long form, here are some of the reasons why I’m making the leap from digital nomad to lease bound:
It’s a Lot
If you like variety and adventures, and I most certainly do, being a digital nomad is a lot of fun! It’s also a lot of work. There’s planning where to stay, finding a good place to work, dealing with inevitable travel hiccups, and a lot of packing and unpacking. A fair number of days “off” from work get allocated to the relocation process – whether driving between locations or moving stuff in and out of new places (even when you don’t feel like you have that much stuff.)
Travel Planning in the CRV “Bath” Spot in Idaho
The logistics increase if you’re van-life-ing, like I was during my first five months of travel (I called it CRV-lifing because I was living in and out of my CRV, not a van). What were formerly routine daily activities become things you have to put thought and energy into: Where can I shower and how much will it cost? Where can I go to an indoor bathroom? Where can you I get rid of this bag a$$ bag of trash? The time and energy spent on these things adds up.
Creature Comforts
It’s nice and calming to have a shower, indoor bathroom, full-kitchen, and be surrounded by my things.
It’s the People, Not the Places
In March of 2020, when the world went on lock down, I was in traveling in Colorado, “trying it on” as a potential place to live. I have a number of friends and family in and around Denver, but early on, so much was unknown and lockdown meant limiting contacts to immediate households. My immediate household was: me! Traveling somewhere else, like to my parents’ house in Florida, didn’t feel safe. So much was unknown about COVID-19 during those early months.
Like many, I leaned into the quarantine activities: I baked banana bread, joined TikTok, went on a lot of walks, and watched copious amounts of TV. I was thankful for these distractions and for a situation that was easier and safer than so many. None-the-less, it was lonely, it stressful, and it was scary. The experience did highlight something, though: what I cared about.
As a historically frequent traveler, I was asked quite a few times, “When it’s safe again, where do you want to go next?” My answer, without hesitation: “to see my family.”
Seeing family and friends that don’t live nearby has always been one of my primary motivators for working remotely. At times, I also craved the adventure and growth of frequent travel. Hence, my past two years as a digital nomad. Today, working remotely is enough. There are certainly still places I’d like to see and adventures I’d like to go one, but my priority travel is to see friends and family and working remotely gives me the flexibility to do that. Everything else is just icing on the cake.
I Can Adventure Anywhere
Successful, enjoyable travel is often as much about mindset as it is location. You can go to the coolest island in Thailand and have an “eh” time that doesn’t differ much from a weekend in the United States if you just party and stick to what’s comfortable. Or, you can go on a long seemingly boring road trip that becomes one for the record books because you stopped to check out random waterfalls (here are some great PNW ones) and eat at unique country kitchens rather than just counting down the miles left to go.
A healthy dose of curiosity and openness can turn the seemingly mundane into an adventure. Over the years, I’ve honed my ability to tap into this travel mindset, even when I’m not technically traveling. I plan to tap into this ability frequently this summer as I explore life in a (sort of) new city. (For ideas on bringing travel and adventure into every day check out this article.)
Need to be Planted to Grow
One of my favorite common sayings is “grow where you’re planted.” For the past two years, I’ve done just that: I’ve grown where I was planted, a pot that was moving around a lot.
But, I’ve reached the point where the pot is constraining me – I can’t create the deeper roots that I’m craving without being planted in one place. So, for now, I feel like I need to be planted to grow, and I’m planting myself in Portland! (Thank you for bearing with me through this rough analogy – it makes 100% sense in my head.)
Found a Place that Feels Right
One of the reasons, I embarked on my full-time travels was because I was ready to move on from Encinitas, California. To oversimplify, it just wasn’t working for me anymore. The only issue: I wasn’t sure exactly where I wanted to live instead: Maybe downtown San Diego which with more going on? Or Denver for close access to the CO landscape that stole my heart the first time I visited in 2012.
Portland, Oregon was not on my radar as a potential home base. A slightly impulsive decision to visit a new friend in September of 2019 changed that. I saw a different side of Portland than I had seen on my prior visit: one full of charming craftsman style bungalows and rainbows! On a walk around Southeast Portland – very close to where I now live – I snapped this photo:
I’d love to say some sub-conscious part of me knew to mark the moment when I took it but let’s be real, I take a lot of photos. What I can say for sure, is that it’s incredible to look back and see how many seemingly small, insignificant actions and decisions led to where I’m at today.
Want to Share More Travel
Ironically, one of the reasons I’m giving up digital nomad life, is because I want to share more of my travel – through blogging and photography. Since those pursuits are low paying at this point, like under $1k annually low, they haven’t been a priority and just get my leftover time and energy, which frankly, isn’t always a lot.
I’m optimistic that being settled will give me a little more time and energy to enjoy travel writing and photography. I really love sharing the interesting experiences that I stumble upon – and giving people ideas for their own adventures.
I Hope You Have a Summer Like This…
While this post is about why I’m ending my two years as a digital nomad, there is a reason it took me two years to be ready to give it up: it was an incredible experience. If you’re thinking about taking an adventure – big or small – I encourage you to do it.
During my first summer of digital nomad life when I was CRV-life-ing through the US and a speck of Canada, I remember thinking, “I hope everyone has a summer like this.” It felt like what summer break looks like in movies – adventurous, free, hopeful, and lighthearted. Whether you’re in one place or traveling, I hope that you have at least one summer (or winter, or spring, or fall) like that one.
Letting loose at a van life festival in Oregon! Just a random weekday excursion in Colorado.
I’d also be remiss if I didn’t say a huge THANK YOU to everyone that has been a part of the journey. Solo travel doesn’t mean you’re alone all the time. My adventures would not have been nearly as long or as fun without the friends and family that have hosted, encouraged, and met up with me over the past two years.
