It sounds strange, but somehow I discovered roots. Well, not roots-roots, but little roots. That sounds a little strange, doesn’t it? I use the term ‘roots’ to describe folks who plant themselves in a place and decide to never leave. The types of folks who get homesick. (Which, for the record, I have never experienced. Well, technically I have, but more on that in a minute.)

Ever since our move to Spain got derailed, I have thought of nothing else except restarting my nomadic life. For the past 15 months I have been obsessed with figuring out how to kick-start the journey, and I have. But suddenly, there was this tug. This notion in the back of my head that said … WAIT! You can’t leave! There is something here which you can’t replicate on the road. Stay and love it. Stay and loooooove it!

That “it” is my studio.

When I couldn’t be a YouTuber wandering the globe, I decided to build out a grand ole studio. I mean, what else is there to do during covid except spend money on Amazon? And after a few iterations, I carved out something really, really cool (in my humble opinion). And somewhere along the journey it became my favorite place to be. Where I still spend virtually all of my waking time. And the thought of dismantling it for a year’s worth of wandering suddenly filled me with … I honestly don’t know the word. But it wasn’t a good feeling.

How odd is that? I’m craving nomadic life and yet I’m feeling glued to a 12’x10′ room? Where is the logic in that?

I mentioned earlier feeling homesick, and I need to go there for a bit. My prior homesickness was a two parter. One was being homesick for a place I had never been before. And the other was while I was actually standing in that place. When we first landed in Barcelona back in 2017, Nikki made the comment “How can you be homesick for a place you’ve never been?”. We both had this feeling within hours of being there that we should had been in that grand city all along. There was this pull, this sense of belonging, that made you want to never leave. And about a month after that, as I was walking back to the flat from some errand, I stopped in my tracks and thought to myself just how right it felt being in Barcelona. I felt real roots. I felt homesick …. and I was in the very place that I was aching for.

Perhaps both of those times we were pre-feeling leaving. Because we would have to be gone within three months, the limit of our tourist visas. And when we went back in 2019, we felt the exact same thing, only stronger. So yes, I have felt “homesick” and I have felt “roots”.

So, what’s this got to do with my little studio?

I honestly don’t feel like it’s a place where I “belong”. I didn’t build it and proclaim that I had found my home. Yes, it’s nice. Functional. Something I’m proud to have created. But it’s not my home. But still, it’s hard to leave. I think because of fear. Covid took a toll on me in many ways, one of which was to hide from who I am inside. I built a little safe haven where I can communicate with the world, and leaving it … stepping again into the bright sunlight … is scary. But hiding isn’t in my nature anymore. So my lovely studio, your lifespan is limited. It’s been fun, but it’s time to move on.

I have been toying with ideas on how to semi-replicate this elsewhere, no matter where I am. And in doing so, I’ve actually found myself letting go of my fears. And perhaps that’s the best part of my studio experience. It hasn’t just been a place where I could hone a craft in relative safety, it’s also been somewhere where I could learn more about myself. So as each of us starts stepping outside our front doors again, maybe we also need to ponder what we’ve learned during our lockdown. And not just start running again towards the past.