Gipsy, a story about travel

When they started walking, men and women were nomad at heart. An inside curiosity making them greedy for the outside. Then men began to possess, and with possession came attachment. So men started to need a place to put their stuff. Men started to crave for a home. 

Women bear homes in their bodies, but they need men. So they faked attachment to shiny things and put their curiosity in the small piece of land that they were now living on. Haunted by travel’s memory, they learned how to travel with the seasons and the moon cycle. 

Called Gipsy by her mother, the first one to answer to the road’s calling for hundreds of springs had a lonely childhood. Sitting at the foot of a tree, she listened birds talking to one another. Some were describing landscapes Gipsy had never seen but could imagine blissfully.

Language then expressed the essential but failed in the face of extraordinary. So Gipsy left without saying goodbye the day after her initiation ritual. In the forest with three other girls that bled too since the last full moon, hypnotised by stars and sounds, she was able to embrace her thirst for travel. Nobody would understand the risks she was willing to take, so she didn’t try to explain.

With her instinct at his full potential she walked, she watched, she loved. No one envies someone who doesn’t own anything. Gipsy had girls who walked with her and died content of all the trees, all the horizons, all the faces, all the songs. Her daughters had boys and girls who settled, girls who convinced men to walk with them and girls who kept on walking by themselves.

Today, millions of springs later, Gipsy’s descendants are a source of fascination and fear, like everything else we don’t understand. For lots of men and women, travel lost its meaning, and the road its magic. But to the ones who are willing to listen, Gipsy still sings her song 

I was a bandmaster, a pirate a princess and a whore. I hit and got hit. I loved I cried I yelled. I understood. I wanted prayed created. I lost. I walked without knowing and I walked in conscience. I believed in Odin Osiris and Aphrodite. I believed in Hunab Ku and the Pacha Mama. I believed in god, Allah, Tara. I believed in others.

I am the travel: what pushes us to discover that human nature is one and indivisible. It doesn’t matter how we call them, we believe in the same things.

I resisted to life and death, I accepted change and its unavoidableness. I got thirsty for war and hungry for peace, I craved both lust and intimacy. I enjoyed, I suffered , I forgot and then I remembered. I had palaces, I had bodies I had souls. I looked for answers in the sky, in earth in fire in thunder in air, in the void, in the light, in the universe. I found out that everything I always wanted to know was right here inside of me.

I am the travel: what pushes us to discover that human nature is one and indivisible. It doesn’t matter how we call them, we want the same things.