Where am I going?
Waking up alone in a new city, to a foreign language, unfamiliar smells, and overwhelmingly new surroundings, the most natural question is where am I going?
The conditions are just right for this sort of pondering. Do I want to see the museums, learn the history, climb the hills and party. Do I want to stay by the pool and stare at the sun. Do I go discover new food or search for something familiar? The question is where am I going?
While thinking I realize, it’s not a new question. It’s the same question I ask myself everyday. Even though not as explicit. A constant search for direction, ascribing purpose and meaning to daily life.
But here’s the thing, i’m in a new city 🤷🏾♂️. I don’t know where I am going, I’m mostly just happy to go. I don’t spend too much time thinking about the question because I really don’t know. And boy do I have a good time just not knowing!
I can’t be in the wrong place because what’s right? Can’t get lost because I already am. I can only discover what this new majestic city has to offer.
This makes me skeptical of the initial question “Where am I going?”. Why exactly do I need an answer to this when I can just … go.
So maybe next time, when I find myself asking such questions in a more familiar setting, I can give myself this same answer and remind myself that I do not know. So I spend less time thinking and just do.