In 2004, I tossed/gave away/packed all my stuff, quit my job, moved everything two provinces over into storage, then about 3 days later, I flew to Australia to tour for the next 3 months. When I returned, I went to Uni to get another degree.

The week before I caught the flight to Australia wasn't terribly sentimental ... it was a mad panic as I finished up at work, finished packing, loaded a moving van, discovered my moving van was too small, organised an additional method of moving, had a charitable organisation come and pick up a bunch of stuff, drove the moving van almost 2000 km, unloaded the moving van, double-checked all my touring gear, and dashed off to the airport.

Then in 2009, I repeated the tossing/giving away/packing and putting everything into storage process in order to move to Australia.

I've moved and travelled a lot ... I've never really put roots down anywhere, at least not very deep. "Home" is wherever I happen to be.

And as for the comfort zone, I've spent much of my life living outside my comfort zone. It's nice to live within my comfort zone for a little bit of a rest now and then, but I get too restless if I stay there too long.