2024 was the first year that I lived as a nomad. I stayed in 23 different cities across 12 countries, spending an average of two weeks in each spot. The same suitcase accompanied me through scorching deserts, tropical jungles, and the sub-zero Arctic.

I wasn’t exactly homeless, because home isn’t always a physical location. Home is familiarity and rest. My home was my routine and a handful of possessions. In each location, I decorated my desk with the same miniature plant and Japanese toy coffee maker. Every morning, I began my day the same way: homemade pour-over coffee, meditation, and a protein shake. My community was my coworkers, with whom I jammed virtually every day as we worked together to solve tough problems. Each night, I slept on the same pillow. And in every city, I climbed—in gyms, on old castles and churches, and outdoors on rock and ice.

Many people can’t imagine living a life like this. Yet we spent 95% of human history as nomadic hunter-gatherers. Our ancestors had a varied diet, hit their daily step goals, and were constantly adapting to new environments. Not only did they live longer than post-agricultural societies, they also lived quality lives—unplagued by the diseases and malnutrition that come with the modern lifestyle. Their possessions were limited to what they could carry on their backs. Their lives were hard but simple.

Although living as a nomad was exciting, not all moments were glorious. In Iceland, I spent many nights cold when the heater in my campervan ran out of battery. In Japan, I was knocked out with a fever from an infection after petting a sea otter. And in Portugal, I suffered second-degree burns when my water kettle exploded. But I learned to laugh at my bad decisions and appreciate each moment as a unique and memorable experience.

In 2025, I plan to settle down a bit, limiting my travels to the Americas and Europe and setting up a base in Miami. I’m looking forward to experiencing the comforts of having a consistent gym, Amazon deliveries, and perhaps a sense of community. At the same time, I aim to avoid becoming too domesticated—there’s still a lot of world to see.

For most people, a nomadic life doesn’t make sense due to the commitments they’ve already made. But if you ever get the chance to experience it for yourself, I hope you take the trip.