How NOT to Do Nomad Life: Lessons From Burnout
I became a nomad to escape burnout… and walked straight into another kind of burnout.
When I first set off, I pictured a calm, stress-free life: wandering through forests, curling up with the kitties, moving at my own rhythm. Reality: A free-dive into stress, uncertainty, and that constant feeling of the rug being pulled out from under my feet.
It’s easy to romanticize nomad life. I did it. Still do. And honestly? I think we need the romance because it’s part of what makes this lifestyle so magical. But life has a funny way of balancing things out. Burnout in nomad life is real. I’ve seen long-time nomads give it up completely, I’ve heard others share their struggles, and I’ve been living my own version of it throughout much of 2025.
The truth is: you have to be a little off-the-beaten-path to live this way. You need strength, resilience, flexibility (which does not come naturally to me), and most of all… trust. Trust in yourself, and trust in the Universe.
Here are the biggest mistakes I’ve made in 2.5 years of wandering — and what I’ve learned NOT to do:
Mistake #1: Fast-Traveling Everywhere
In my first year, I treated the map like a bingo card. Oregon → Washington → Montana → Colorado → Utah → New Mexico → Arizona → California → back up to Oregon → Washington → Oregon → California. I bounced around like a kid in a candy shop.
The thrill was intoxicating… and completely unsustainable. Now, I slow travel. I stay longer, soak up the area, and let my nervous system catch up.
Mistake #2: Jumping at the First Sit
When you’re starting out, it’s tempting to grab the first “decent” house-sit just to have security. I did that a lot — filling every gap so I always had a landing pad.
But filling gaps with things that aren’t aligned just creates more stress. Now I wait for the sits that feel right. That means leaning into discomfort, trusting the Universe, and remembering that alignment always shows up when I let it.
Mistake #3: Too Many Short-Term Sits
Here’s the reality of short sits: unpack, learn the routine, connect with the fur babies, Ok! time to go, repack, clean, load the car, drive… repeat until exhaustion.
At one point, I stayed in five different places in five weeks. I didn’t know where I was, and my nervous system hated me.
Now, I set a loose minimum of three weeks. A month or more is the sweet spot — it gives me enough time to breathe, create rhythm, and actually live in a place.
Mistake #4: Ignoring Self-Care
Nomad kitchens are unpredictable. I’ve rinsed quinoa through a dish cloth because there was no strainer (10/10 do not recommend). Add in irregular routines, and it’s easy to let self-care slide.
But here’s the truth: without nourishing food and daily movement, I fall hard. My body demands consistency, even when my lifestyle isn’t. These days, I keep simple rituals — one plant-based meal I can make anywhere, one workout I can do with no equipment. They keep me grounded.
Mistake #5: Pressure to Always Be Exploring
Nomads are professional researchers. We’re always planning the next where/what/how/when. And once we land somewhere new, there’s that pressure to do all the things.
But constant exploration is exhausting. Sometimes, the most radical act of self-care is staying home. Reading, napping, drinking hot chocolate, and letting yourself just be. That’s where nervous systems heal.
Final Thoughts
Nomad life is still the greatest gift I’ve ever given myself. But freedom isn’t freedom if you’re running on fumes.
Burnout taught me to slow down, trust more, and live in alignment — not just logistics. This lifestyle works when you stop trying to “do it all” and instead create a rhythm that actually supports you.
If you’re feeling the pull to go nomadic, or if you’re already on the road and feeling the burnout creep in, know this: it’s not about doing everything. It’s about building a life you don’t want to escape from.