Steven Tyler was so right, it really isn’t.
For the past five months my family and I have gypsied around the Australian east coast in search of a new place to base ourselves. Fourteen different "homes"; 4,000+ km's driven; three marital blow-ups over where to live; four last minute def-con 3 level panics to find shelter in less than 48 hours; and one false start on a new home. It’s been intense, unplanned, uncomfortable and unforgettable.
Five months ago, we packed up our belongings and headed off in a campervan for what was supposed to be a 2 week exploration/holiday. What we got was an epic five month experience of effectively being homeless with 2 young children. After we returned the campervan we moved from one short-term rental to another.
Having no fixed abode is cool when you’re young and travelling. Not so much with two young children and a demanding job. I felt like our beach towels in this photo – hung out to dry. Of course, our experience was nothing compared to the sharp desperation many genuinely homeless families face, because we always had options (though sometimes limited).
Two days before Christmas we moved into a rented house on a farm. The contrast has been shocking in its own way. From adrenalin filled “we have to find a place to sleep tomorrow” to “oh my god, we’re stuck out here!” Our re-entry into stable living hasn’t been easy or particularly graceful and we’re not sure how long we’ll be here, but for now, we’re trying to find comfort in a summer of farm living (something we’ve never done). As is so often the case, sitting quietly in stillness amongst the quiet of nature is FAR more challenging than life at full speed!
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