A well known fellow nomad passed away this week, surrounded by people he loved, and who loved him. I only met him once at a gathering, but his beautiful energy and generosity made an impression.
We have mutual friends on Facebook, and I watched the progression from his diagnosis, to the care he received from his community of nomads, to the eventual releasing of his spirit back to the universe. It saddened me, yet it was profoundly moving to see the community come together to support him. His community allowed him to pass into the next adventure as a nomad, not in a hospital bed, proof we don’t need to live a conventional life to live a profoundly meaningful life.
Death often opens the floodgates of love, and the outpouring of love for this man was incredible.
He died the way he lived, a free man surrounded by his loving nomad community.
Seeing his life made me think deeply about why I love being a nomad.
Words fail me. I searched the internet to find the expression of why so many of us deeply love this way of life.
Here are some of them.
His life and death inspires me to continue living the dream of nomad life I started out on 7 years ago, a dream that has never let me go. His ties to his community are envious, and I can only hope that I too can die a good death as a free woman, surrounded by love.
