Home is not about walls and stuff
I remember the first time we left the bus at Mon La Bassa. We had been parked there only a few months, overwhelmed by how right it was for us. And yet, we needed to travel and leave for the Canary Islands for some months.
It was before my mother died. Before covid. The children were still children.
How little did we know about the travel life, how newbies we were. Yet adventurous, courageous, and crazy. We had spent so much time and energy building the bus, and it had become a symbolic token of the freedom we were creating, so much so that leaving it even for an afternoon, in the beginning, seemed a risk.
Leaving for months was letting go. Leaning into freedom, even the symbol of freedom, could not stop us.
It was a long time ago.
Since then, we have left and come back many times, and the circle has worked as a mirror, reflecting the inner and outer journey.
This time, we waited a full 24 hours before we did it. I was not ready for the overwhelming reaction I thought I would have. Or for the work.
It turned out perfect.
We ARE leaving the bus; we knew it, and it was only more right when we returned. Immediately, we began to clear it of personal stuff, letting go of what was not needed and packing personal items to ship back to storage in Denmark.
It was melting hot, and there were a thousand mosquitos, so we put in a few hours and left for the beach, confident it was the right thing and grateful for the already much lighter feeling.
It was lovely to meet our friends at the sanctuary and have good hugs and warm conversations.
We will always have a home in Catalunia. But it is clear, we don’t need the bus for that. We don’t need stuff to have a home.
Home is - truly - where the heart is.
With love
Cecilie Conrad
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