My Evolving Nomadic Life in 2025

    I’ve spent the better part of the 2020’s in a nomadic niche – on one hand I’ve utilized my family’s standby flight perks to take immersive backpacking trips around the world, and on the other I’ve done odd musical jobs such as my 2024 U.S. tour with the Emo Orchestra. I’ve kept my cost of living extremely low by staying with my parents in Wisconsin between travel and work, and by owning very little. In this lifestyle I’ve gotten to discover not just fascinating places, peoples, and cultures; but I’ve also gotten a better window into myself. A five-month long stay in Australia on a Working Holiday Visa in 2022 was perhaps the most influential of my trips, as it reminded me of how much I love being a musician at a time where I had been seeking a career pivot (that year I worked hospitality for the first time, and then almost became a flight attendant). 

In March it will be 10 years since I first started traveling abroad. I’m happy to say I’ve made amazing memories, but I am also exhausted. The standby lifestyle has greatly contributed to my stress, I can’t even count the number of airports around the world I’ve slept in. In 2024 I was absolutely unhinged in my wanderings – cramming in visits to Guatemala, Belize, Nicaragua, Spain, Gibraltar, Morocco, Brazil, India, Sri Lanka, and Argentina (in that order). Almost all of them bore some sort of distressing incident – from falling off a motorcycle in Nicaragua, to a shower electrocution in Rio, and lastly on New Year’s Eve when I was attacked and required stitches in Buenos Aires. It was hard to see all of this as anything other than a sign that I needed to slow down. On another note, I’ve spent my prime dating years traveling too often to find a suitable connection. I’ve been single for so long that I’ve all but lost interest in having a relationship, which is a shame.

So here I am in 2025, and well, there’s a lot I want to change. Most of all I want stable friendships again, like I had in college. My gigs have been too inconsistent for me to form close bonds with colleagues, and I’m unlikely to see any of the people I’ve met traveling abroad. As for hobbies, I want to get back to doing ceramics, which I haven’t done since 2017. I also want to move out of my parent’s house in Wisconsin, and potentially to a large city such as Chicago – which is still only an hour or so from my family. There I’d have easy access to O’Hare airport and all that comes with Chicago’s cultural landscape. While a full-time orchestra job somewhere could provide the best solution to most of my concerns, I’ve also not had the greatest luck in winning such a job. Instead, over the past year I’ve shifted fully to the freelance route, seeking per-service work with orchestras in different parts of the country – many of which provide housing and/or travel assistance when I’m in town. This February I had my first substitute appearance with the Nashville Symphony, and next month I travel for performances in Montana and Connecticut.

One thing I can’t ignore is the fact that this is quite possibly the worst time for me as a gay (and low income) person to root myself deeper into American life. With the current political climate here deteriorating by the day I’ve constantly asked myself – am I doing this all wrong? Should I have stayed abroad and gone the digital nomad route – teaching English, and/or violin & viola remotely? It’s easy to imagine myself escaping to Thailand or Vietnam, where I could live for quite a while with the money I have saved, however this would not provide a long-term solution to many of the lifestyle shifts I’ve mentioned. For example, I don’t imagine finding many, if any classical musician expats to play chamber music with; and I’d be unlikely to find a base where I can make and sell my ceramics from. This is without mentioning the serious issue of gentrification in many expat communities throughout developing nations.

At the moment I am feeling incredibly torn. I have auditions in April that I want to take, ones that could really help me ground my life. But the other part of me feels like no matter what, staying in the U.S. is a losing battle. I’ve been critical for many years about the car-centric culture, the ridiculous *lack* of gun control, the for-profit healthcare, and many other aspects of American life. This said, even if I were to find the work-life balance here that I seek, will the country’s ever-changing political landscape leave any reason to stick around? A few people lately have told me to keep my passport on hand. I’ve taken note.