The Life of a Digital Nomad

It’s not for everyone

I took some pictures of the room I am staying in while I am in Kansas City. My granddaughter’s Mom graciously allows me to stay in one of her guest rooms in a suburb of KC. They triggered the idea of writing a Substack post describing this Digital Nomad’s way of living.  

Whether it’s an Airbnb, at a friend’s home, in a co-living environment, or a pension/hotel; whatever room I am in, for the time I am staying there, is my home base. Once I have checked in and carried my backpack and electronics bag into the room, it becomes the center of my world, my Home. 

The picture of my backpack, Felicity, in the corner of the closet with a lineup of plastic bags shows all my clothes and basic belongings. I live out of those bags.  I don’t empty them and put them in drawers or bins or whatever might be available in the room. They remain organized for easy access, and they are always ready to be put back in the backpack when it is time to move on. There is a larger plastic bag (13 gallon) into which I put clothes that have been worn enough times to need washing.  In cool weather it fills more slowly than in hot, sweaty weather. Most places provide access to free or coin operated washing machines, sometimes a dryer, but most often just a drying rack. (I have a cord that can be strung up for hanging in the room if there is no other option.)  Otherwise, I find a public laundromat.  

There is a picture of a single, larger plastic bag, and a picture of the bathroom. 

As you can see, the bathroom is empty of any toiletries. They are in the plastic bag.  It has everything I need for daily ablutions (a fun word I picked up from my first book mentor, Walt Wangerin, now deceased – he was a literary wonder). 

Since I am often in a place with a shared bath, I need to be able to keep them in my room (or backpack when in hostels). The bag has smaller bags in it for shampoo, toothpaste, toothbrush, razor, nail clippers, prescriptions, folding cup, Ibuprofen, antacids, comb, craft scissors for beard trimming, and a scrubby.  If there isn’t a towel already in the room for me or available from my host, there is usually one available to rent from the office. I have a thin camping towel in my backpack if none is otherwise available. Rarely are their washcloths to use when showering, hence the scrubby.  Often there is shower gel, but if there is none I can always use the shampoo.  

I did not make the bed just for the picture. Every day, after my morning shower, I make the bed. This is my world. This is where I live for the days or weeks I am there.  Obviously, I have a touch of OCD in this regard but these routines offer minor control of something in a life otherwise filled with change, and so many things over which I have no control. I get to sleep pretty easily, although since I am genetically a night owl (according to a report on my DNA from Ancestry.com) I am usually very tired when finally I crawl into bed late at night. I have earplugs to mitigate any loud snoring when in shared dormitory spaces or the sounds of any late partying. Very rarely have I had to use them.  

The desk and black electronics bag contain the tools of my digital trade. I am not very literate in terms of computer use, but I get by and I’m not afraid to learn. The internet is my lifeline. Substack, the book I am working on, and Facebook posts are my daily work, along with attempting to resist the loads of entertainment provided by the logarithms which endlessly serve up enticing fodder for procrastination. It annoys me how well they read my love for music, science, meditation, poetry, natural world scenery, and self-care.

I always book places that are within walking distance of groceries.  I love grocery stores that have simple prepared items that can be eaten cold or heated in a microwave. Most places have a microwave, but when they don’t a stovetop and/or oven will do. There is usually access to a toaster (bread can be toasted in the oven), an electric kettle for heating water to a boil, shared refrigerator and freezer space, a designated place to keep your personal packaged food, some basic seasonings (at least salt and pepper), basic pots, pans, tools for preparing food (knives), and silverware.  Sometimes there is a shelf with free nonperishable foods that have been left behind.

When booking a room in an Airbnb -

It has to have a window, a desk, a chair, and good WiFi. Hostels are not good for writing since often there is no private, quiet space for working. When I stay in hostels, I don’t expect to do any writing other than maybe a short post with a few pictures. With that said, hostels are my favorite places for meeting people, especially young people.  

Traveling this way, one encounters all sorts of things. 

Sometimes there are spiders. As long as they keep their distance, I don’t mind - unless they are big and hairy. 

The water in the shower can sometimes take forever to get warm. On occasion it never gets warm. One place, it was so hot that no matter how much I adjusted it my skin would start turning red if any part of my body was in the stream. I have, on occasion, been baffled by a shower. Some of them are not intuitive in how to get the overhead and/or handheld part to work. I have sprayed myself with cold or hot water as well as places in the bathroom not meant to get wet. There have been showers sans curtain. There have been tubs to step into that were difficult for these short legs that are not as nimble as in the past. There is always the matter of checking how slippery it is in the shower or when stepping on the bathroom floor so as to avoid disaster. 

Not every place is perfectly clean, sometimes not clean at all. The bedding, sheets and pillowcases are always clean. There are dogs and cats on occasion. Thankfully I have no allergies and I can usually win over dogs using patience and knowing where to scratch. Cats don’t give a damn. They are normally not a bother unless they are very playful and don’t realize that their claws are razor sharp.   

In many places the buildings are very old and without elevators (lifts) to reach the upper floors. Often the stairs are not constructed according to modern building codes. As an older adult, going down stairs can be an adventure when I discover the next step not to be where my auto pilot thinks it should be and the following one to be a yet more distant drop. It is surprising to me how much more winded I get going up stairs when each step is even a little higher than I am used to. I am convinced that adapting to all those variations, the things that are not intuitive in their placement, different from the environment that has programmed my auto pilot when growing up is helping me maintain some level of mental plasticity as I grow older. I am convinced that losing my way, making mistakes, getting on the wrong train, missing my stop, trying to figure out how to communicate with people whose language I don’t know, are precisely what I need to experience to keep my mind active.  

As a Digital Nomad, traveling alone for long periods of time, do I get lonely? 

Since I am comfortable meeting new people and enjoy developing a kinship with them, there are usually people around to talk with. In places where there are relatively few English speakers, that part of my modus operandi is less fulfilled. The fact that my siblings are so much older than me resulted in my growing up as a sort of only child. I spent lots of time by myself. My parents didn’t socialize much during my growing up years, other than my mother’s church activities. I didn’t go over to other kids' houses and they didn’t come over to mine. We didn’t phone one another and talk. 

I am sort of a gregarious introvert.

When I am sick, I don’t want people doting over me.

However, I do seek relationships that are personal and intimate. There are a handful of people to whom I feel very close when we are together either in person or online, even if the times together are few and far between. Video chatting, using FaceTime, audio messaging, texting, as well as actual face to face interacting are the ways those personal relationships are sustained. I am generally a low maintenance friend, and I prefer having friends who are low maintenance. In spite of that I sometimes get sad and lonely. As I have mentioned often, when I meet people, I tend to fall in like with them, and when we part, I don’t want to say goodbye, I don’t want to let go. I have to let go. I may never see them again. I want to feel sad about that.  

I am back in the US now for my spring visit. 

When here I have my twice yearly checkup with my Primary Care Physician, once for a physical, and once just to make sure everything is on course and no problems have emerged. The last visit six months ago provided time to get a surgery on my hand to correct a problem created by Dupuytren’s Contracture.  I get to my semi-annual dental appointment for cleaning, x-rays, and the usual conversation about flossing. My dentist loves fishing, something I loved when I was young, so I get to see the latest monster he has caught. Where I have traveled, the medical care has always been good for anything that came up along the way.  A once a year visit to the Dermatologist catches any spots that might become a problem before they do. There is always the Telehealth option if need be. I like going to a physician who knows me and my history.  I can get haircuts while traveling, but I often just let it grow and go to a familiar place in Kansas City when I am in the country. Various financial matters can now be accomplished through the Internet and the occasional video-chat.  

When back in the States, I spend time with people who provide an anchor, allowing me to travel freely without losing my bearings. I do this for a few weeks each year, once during the holidays and once some time in the spring. My children and grandchildren provide a secure and enduring sense of belonging. My siblings connect me with my origin. They are much older than I am. My sister Tish has already left and I miss her. I want to check in with them face to face at least twice a year. I am Uncle Pete to their children, adding to my sense of belonging. When back in the US I seek out long time friends to nurture face to face those feelings of belonging. I wander the planet, moving freely from place to place, but I always have the sense of belonging that comes along with me.  

The life of a digital nomad.  It is not for everyone.  

- Peter