Industrialized nations are so fixated on a structure of living that includes a "home"--and not of the gushy home-is-where-your-heart-is sort, but of the physical, immobile, permanant residency. Agricultural luck and fluid trade patterns have permitted our societies to become stationary, and develop academia, traditions, and a vast array of technology. Societies at rest tend to stay at rest, and momentum is conserved.
It is in our flourishing societies that the nomad is alienated. The homeless are outcasts, regardless of how they resulted in their situation. A traveler's lifestyle is considered unsustainable, even reckless. It is too common for people to not only be fluent in a single language, but also understand and empathize with a single mindset.
In a society such as the above, I have found myself without a "home".
Sure, I have places I'm "staying". For the past year, in student housing at Georgia Tech. For the next week or so, at my parent's home in Texas. After that, South Korea for awhile. I'll probably hit up Thailand, China, Taiwan, Cambodia, Japan, and/or Vietnam. And then, who knows where I'll be. I'm at that stage in my life in which I'm constantly barely sure about what I'll be doing in a month.
Frequently, I've found myself feeling empty, as I have no concept of where or what "home" is. And honestly, I think I'm lusting for something that even nomadic cultures had--a group identity. I am alone, yet surrounded by people. Out of a fear of being caged, I have lost any sense of belonging. Disagreement has rendered me into solitude, or independence, contingent on your perspective.
So I'll wander, and I'll search for my own identity, and I'll learn. Perhaps I'll return to or stumble apon a someone or a group of people with whom I find home. Or maybe I won't. Independence isn't so bad.