{"id":1057,"date":"2025-07-09T18:47:26","date_gmt":"2025-07-09T18:47:26","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/prolificpreambles.com\/?p=1057"},"modified":"2025-07-09T18:47:27","modified_gmt":"2025-07-09T18:47:27","slug":"vagabond-of-the-soul","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/prolificpreambles.com\/?p=1057","title":{"rendered":"Vagabond of the Soul"},"content":{"rendered":"\n

\u201cWhere are you off to now<\/em>?\u201d they ask, eyebrows raised and smiles that don\u2019t always reach their eyes\u2026. \u201cCan\u2019t you just settle down and stay home?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I believe it\u2019s not meant to wound, but it lingers\u2014an undercurrent of judgment wrapped in curiosity, yet I have learned not to bristle.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Instead, I breathe and answer: \u201cI have a vagabond soul.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

It’s not because I\u2019m running from something but because I\u2019m running toward something\u2014toward understanding, toward meaning, and toward the golden thread that connects all things when we\u2019re willing to look closer. My next journey, in two weeks, takes me to New Zealand and Tasmania\u2014not for the postcard views and wines (those call me too!)\u2014but for what they might teach me about presence, reverence, and what it means to belong<\/em> without possessing.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Some people search for a home. I search for truth, the kind that exists between places, roles, what is handed down, and what feels sacred to me. I am a vagabond of both the road and the soul, not because I am unhappy, but because I am deeply, dangerously curious.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

As a child, I would question everything. When adults gave me answers, they seldom made sense. I wanted more\u2014more depth, more honesty, more evidence. But often, they couldn\u2019t provide it. They\u2019d say, \u201cDon\u2019t worry about it,\u201d or \u201cThat\u2019s just the way it is.\u201d That never satisfied me. I wasn\u2019t trying to be difficult. I just wanted to understand.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

In high school, I remember challenging my religion teacher: \u201cWhy do I need to believe this? Why does this version of the truth matter more than my experience of it?\u201d Blind faith never came naturally to me. I wanted to feel truth in my body, to witness it for myself, not adopt it because someone told me to. That instinct, to experience rather than assume, is what still drives me to travel, to seek, to go where others don\u2019t.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

People often speak with conviction about places they\u2019ve never been, cultures they\u2019ve never touched, lives they\u2019ve never lived. They absorb secondhand beliefs and make them their truth. That\u2019s never made sense to me. I\u2019d rather stand on the soil, hear the language, and feel the heartbeat of a place for myself before drawing conclusions. That\u2019s how I make sense of the world by being in it, fully.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

My unrest is not rooted in lack. It\u2019s rooted in longing, an ache to experience life honestly, to peel back the polished surface and press my palms to the raw, breathing core of things. I\u2019ve never been content to inherit a blueprint. I want to draw my own map.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Of course, vagabonding, both spiritual and physical, comes at a cost. I\u2019ve felt the weight of other people\u2019s confusion, their need to label or fix me. But I\u2019ve also felt profound freedom. I\u2019ve left relationships that didn\u2019t honor who I was becoming. I\u2019ve released timelines and expectations that weren\u2019t mine. I\u2019ve made space for wonder.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Living on my own terms hasn\u2019t always been easy, but it has always been true. I trust the rhythm of my becoming. I struggle to settle because I\u2019ve made a pact with authenticity: to observe, to challenge, to live awake and never land in mediocrity.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

So no, I am not escaping. I am arriving\u2014again and again\u2014in every unfamiliar place that offers me a mirror. New Zealand and Tasmania are next on the list of soul-stretching teachers. I am a vagabond not only of roads but of soul, a restless heart with a compass tuned to truth, tenderness, and the untamed. I do not seek a final destination. I strive to stay present. And if that means wandering for the rest of my days, then so be it.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The journey itself has become my home.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

\u201cWhere are you off to now?\u201d they ask, eyebrows raised and smiles that don\u2019t always reach their eyes\u2026. \u201cCan\u2019t you just settle down and stay home?\u201d I believe it\u2019s not meant to wound, but it lingers\u2014an undercurrent of judgment wrapped in curiosity, yet I have learned not to bristle. Instead, I breathe and answer: \u201cI […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":1058,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[11,3,32,29,6],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-1057","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-critical-thinking","category-empowerment","category-living","category-personal-contemplation","category-travel"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/prolificpreambles.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1057","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/prolificpreambles.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/prolificpreambles.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/prolificpreambles.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/prolificpreambles.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=1057"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/prolificpreambles.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1057\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":1059,"href":"https:\/\/prolificpreambles.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1057\/revisions\/1059"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/prolificpreambles.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/media\/1058"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/prolificpreambles.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=1057"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/prolificpreambles.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=1057"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/prolificpreambles.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=1057"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}