Travelling, Digital Nomads and Life Purpose

Reading time: 6 min

Intro

I’m not the same person I was in my twenties. I don’t think those 2 people (I mean me 10 years ago and me now) would even notice each other bumping their shoulders. They only share a body, and not even all of it. In a sort of extended Ship of Theseus, by replacing my dead cells and beliefs, I’m left with 2 versions of myself which can move pretty much independently one from another.

This is particularly evident when some sort of “dream” of my youth comes true.

As an example, which encompasses not only this concept but also one of the biggest tragedies of growing up, I want to talk about my recent extended stay in Italy.

The Dream

As a student, I’ve been lucky enough to visit a good chunk of the world. I lived in Italy, Ireland, Brazil, now in the UK, and I travelled to around 25 countries before C-19 hit. And yet, it wasn’t enough.

I wanted to go everywhere.

Just as I approached the adult world, a new fashion among millennials was gaining popularity: becoming Digital Nomads.

Photo by Peggy Anke on Unsplash

This, bear in mind, was a strange span; the first Youtubers were turning millionaires, anyone able to get a degree fought for a Software Engineering job and everyone else professed that you didn't need a degree to become rich. Travel was at its peak; a plane to Turkey was cheaper than a bus up the road and travel bloggers were the real lottery winners of this age.

Everyone wanted to become a digital nomad and, the tale was, everyone could become one.

Get a data entry role and move to Thailand to live as a king.

Get into property investment, buy a boat and live off the coast of New Zealand 6 months a year.

It sounds perfect, doesn’t it? But, and hear me out, where are those people now?

The Reality

Despite the big shake that Covid gave to the working-from-home concept, very few of the people who tried that lifestyle are still chanting the marvels of being based nowhere and everywhere. Many of them, as far as I can see, didn’t relocate somewhere remote where with £1 you can rent a boat; instead, they went back home.

And I don’t blame them.

I mean, I’ve got a wife, a daughter and a dog. If I go out for a pint, I want to be in bed by 10 pm, and I’m much happier this way.

Growing old means a lot of horrible things, yes, but it also means beginning to know yourself better. The risk hidden in this improved self-awareness is that you might become a little less likely to try new things,* but between 30 and 35, or at whatever age it happens, you kind of know what you like, you kind of know what you value, and you kind of know what you want. And by you I mean you: now, not that twenty-something-year-old person staying up all night in your memory.

What that person likes, values or wants, though, affects your thirty-something self like a strange tidal effect across space-time.

A Summer as a Digital Nomad

I have always been absolutely fascinated, hypnotised almost by travelling all over the world, and this year, for the first time, thanks to a series of great circumstances, I spent almost 2 uninterrupted months in Italy.**

I loved staying there. I had plenty of holidays, but I also had to work more than 50% of the time, and I really felt like one of the digital nomads I used to watch with envy on YouTube.

It wasn’t all that dreamy, though.

First of all, I’ve been sick for an entire week, and when you’re sick you want to be home, with all your stuff around and the NHS a phone call away.

Moreover, the day I came back, I realised that being away for that long is enough to start eroding your sense of home. And I love my home.

Children manufacture a purpose

What has changed in these 10 years?

I couldn’t quite grasp the reason behind this until I re-watched Ferzan Özpetek’s brilliant show; The Ignorant Angels.

I won’t spoil the story for you, but one of the main characters, towards the end, goes for an extended stay in Istanbul, and the physical trip—like every trip—assumes the meaning of discovery not only of other cultures, but the discovery of oneself.

And that’s when it struck me.

Youth means research. Trial and error. We all go through it, confused and disoriented, looking for a purpose both externally and internally, confusing the two realms over and over again. Travelling to other countries is, in that sense, the most poetic of pursuits.

So, why am I not craving a three-month adventure in Guatemala?

Because of my daughter.***

Becoming a parent manufactures a life purpose for you. It strips you from the need to find something else. It gives you a destination after all that travelling, and, believe me, this is terrifying.

People don’t want their life purpose to be decided by someone else, especially if it’s the same as every other human who ever existed. We all dream of being special, of being remembered, of being unique. The reality is that once you’ve got your purpose, whatever it is, your life becomes meaningful, and it is a wonderful feeling.

Having a kid—in the right conditions—is the triumph of fulfilment. It doesn’t reduce your identity, it just removes the need for the “discovery journey,” at least partially.

Which is, ironically, also a great tragedy. The tragedy of losing the need to search for purpose.

Conclusion

I’m not trying to say that having a kid is the solution to any hollow life. Even in the best circumstances, deciding to have a baby is never the answer to pre-existing problems. If anything, children exacerbate issues, they make them grow out of scale.

I’m just saying that one option is not better than the others.

Life goes in seasons, and if in one season all you want to do is chase Gorillas in Rwanda’s jungles, nothing prevents you to spend a few Saturday evenings on the sofa snoozing in front of the tv a few years later.

But when you find yourself empty, and nothing seems to fill that gap, remember, you might not know what you’re really looking for.

Alla prossima

*Don’t make this mistake though, try new things!

**Disclaimer: Italy is not really abroad, I hear you saying. Aren’t you Italian? Yes, indeed I am, but after 2 years without leaving the UK, Italy feels just like Spain or France. Plus, I made every effort to make it feel as close as possible to a real trip abroad. I rented a beautiful place, I travelled around, I ate in top-notch restaurants, all of this while enjoying some babysitting by the grandparents.

***Yes. I’m talking about parenting once more.

Photo by Marten Bjork on Unsplash