In our modern world, freedom is often tied to possession: to one’s own house, one’s own property, one’s own address. Home is equated with a fixed point on the map. This view obscures an ancient, yet highly relevant form of freedom: the freedom of movement – not as aimless wandering, but as a conscious, cyclical connectedness with a large, living territory. For many indigenous cultures, this non-sedentary way of life was not a last resort, but a complex philosophy of autonomy, adaptability, and deep spiritual rootedness. This article explores what this ancient idea of place-open freedom can teach us today about home, possession, and true freedom of action.
Home as Path: The Nomadic Worldview
For nomadic or semi-nomadic peoples like many of the Plains Indians, the Sami reindeer herders, or Bedouin tribes, home is not a small, fenced plot of earth. Home is an extended, living area – a network of migration routes, seasonal camps, sacred sites, water sources, and hunting grounds. One is not “from somewhere,” but “from this land.” Home is the path itself, the familiar route one follows with the seasons. This form of belonging is deeper and ecologically more intelligent than the sedentary one: It requires intimate knowledge of all resources, dangers, and stories of a vast area. One is not the owner of a place, but the knower and preserver of an entire landscape.
Three Pillars of Place-Open Freedom
1. Mobility as a Survival and Resistance Strategy
The ability to relocate one’s dwelling quickly was a powerful tool. It allowed optimal use of resources (following buffalo herds, moving to seasonal fishing grounds) and adaptation to environmental changes. Crucially, it was also a form of political resistance. Against sedentary, expansion-oriented cultures (whether empires or later colonial powers), the mobility of nomads was a force difficult to control and subdue. One could simply withdraw, move away – an act of autonomy denied to settled farmers. Their freedom was a freedom of feet.
2. Minimal Possession – Maximal Cosmos
Mobility forced a radical reduction of material possessions. What one could not carry or load onto a pack animal/horse was left behind. Yet this apparent “poverty” in things was balanced by an immense wealth of knowledge, stories, and relationships. A person’s value lay not in their belongings, but in their knowledge of the routes, their skills as hunters or craftspeople, and their role in the social structure. This decoupling of identity and possession is one of the most radical lessons for our consumption-focused present.
3. The Deep Bond with Non-Possessed Places
Contrary to modern assumption, the place-open way of life does not lead to a superficial relationship with the earth. On the contrary: Because one depends directly on it in all its facets and seasons, one develops a deep, respectful, and detailed relationship. Every hill, every rock formation, every river bend has a name and a story. The bond is not to a point, but to a pattern, a rhythm, a living organism called land. It is a rootedness in movement.
Why This Idea is More Relevant Than Ever Today
- As a Critique of the Property Trap: In many societies, the dream of homeownership binds people for life to mortgages and a single location, restricts their professional and personal mobility, and makes them vulnerable to economic shocks. The nomadic ideal reminds us that freedom also includes the possibility of movement.
- As a Response to the Climate Crisis: Faced with droughts, floods, and environmental changes, the ability to adapt and be mobile is again becoming a question of survival. Rigid attachment to a “fixed spot” can become a trap.
- As Inspiration for Digital Nomads and New Life Models: Today’s generation of remote workers embodies a modern, technological form of this ancient freedom. The nomadic heritage can give them a cultural and ethical depth beyond mere “working on the go.”
- As a Path to Personal Fulfillment: The idea invites us to tie our identity and security less to a place or possessions, and more to transferable skills, adaptable relationships, and an inner sense of home.
How We Can Integrate Place-Open Wisdom into a Sedentary Life
- Reduce Your “Ballast”: Regularly take stock of your possessions. Ask yourself about each item: “Would I take this if I had to move tomorrow?” This trains the distinction between essential and burdensome.
- Cultivate “Home Feelings” in Multiple Places: You don’t need to have just one “home place.” Cultivate deep relationships with several places – a favorite forest, another city, friends’ houses. Allow yourself to be at home in multiple locations.
- Develop Transferable Skills: Invest in skills not tied to a specific job or place (communication, craftsmanship, ecological knowledge, digital skills). This gives you autonomy and security.
- Live Cyclically, Even When Sedentary: Align your rhythm with natural cycles. Engage in different activities in different places of your region during different seasons. Become a “seasonal nomad” in your own landscape.
- Practice Mental Mobility: The greatest freedom begins in the mind. Practice consciously questioning and changing cherished habits, beliefs, and routines. This is the inner dimension of place-open freedom.
For Whom is This Ancient Ideal a Provocation or Inspiration Today?
- People Trapped by Property: Who feel chained to their house and seek mental liberation.
- Young People Without Attachment to “Home”: Who grew up in a globalized world and are looking for an authentic form of being on the move beyond tourism.
- Climate Refugees and Those Affected by Climate Change: For whom mobility is not a choice but a necessity, and who seek dignity and meaning in this experience.
- Anyone Feeling “Held Down” by Their Own Possessions: Who sense that their possessions own them more than the other way around.
- Critics of the “Increasingly Sedentary” Lifestyle Model: Who question the social and ecological costs of our place-fixation.
Common Misunderstandings and Clarifications
Doesn’t that just mean being “homeless”?
No. Homelessness is a state of rootlessness and a lack of social and spatial bonds. The place-open freedom of indigenous cultures is the opposite: an extreme form of rootedness in a large, social and ecological network. The roots are not deep and narrow at one point, but widely spread and shallow over a vast area. One is not homeless; one has a very large home.
Wasn’t that often a hard, insecure life?
Certainly it was demanding and dependent on the whims of nature. But it was also a life of great freedom, expertise, and social cohesion. The romanticized image of the lonely nomad is rarely accurate; this way of life was almost always embedded in strong communities that shared knowledge and bore risks together. The “insecurity” was a known and calculated part of the life cycle.
Can one even live that in a world of borders, passports, and property rights?
In its pure form, it has become impossible for most. But the principles are translatable. It’s about the mental attitude: to prioritize lightness over possession, to cultivate adaptability, to decouple identity from place and possession, and to develop a deep responsibility for the landscapes we move through – whether as hikers, travelers, or inhabitants of multiple places.
Conclusion: The Freedom of Light Steps
The ancient idea of freedom without a fixed place is more than a historical curiosity. It is a powerful mirror of our own, often unconscious shackles. It asks us: What truly holds you? The mortgage? The furniture? The fear of leaving the familiar spot? By learning from cultures for whom movement was an art and an expression of autonomy, we can renegotiate our own relationship to possession, place, and mobility. Perhaps true home lies not in the foundation of a house, but in the certainty of being able to walk one’s own path – in the knowledge that everywhere one treads with respect, one finds and leaves a piece of home. It is an invitation to walk lighter and be more deeply rooted than ever before.