Tuesday, March 23, 2010

When you don't know where to go

Perhaps you have felt sometimes like you’re lost, like you don’t belong, or like you don’t know where to go. As confident as I may seem most of the time, I have to confess this is how I feel quite often. This loss of sense of direction can have three degrees: you know exactly where you want to go but you don’t know exactly how to get there; you have an idea of where you want to go; or in the worse case, you have no clue where you are headed.




I have always envied the first. It’s as if they had their destiny embedded in their blood or tattooed on their skin. They just know what they want to do; either they have always known, or at some early point in their life they have a revelation and suddenly know their destination. They don’t change their mind after that. They decide one day they want to be a doctor or an astronaut, and that’s what they become. They know what they have to do to get to where they want to go. They know how to become what they want to become. Sometimes they just don’t know the way completely. Sometimes it might take them a couple wrong turns until they finally find their path. There are times I wish I could be like these people, because even if they don’t know every single turn, they always know exactly where they are headed. It would be so much easier if I knew, but I am not in this category. I am probably between knowing the direction and not knowing at all where I want to go. Assuming I do know the direction, there are so many possible paths to take. Nowadays we have so many opportunities. So many, indeed, that it has become harder to choose because all paths sound good and exciting, and it is hard to decide one thing and close all other doors completely. In a way, we still want to have the other choices available in case we don’t like what we’ve chosen. It is important to choose something, to go somewhere, even if you end up in an undesired destination. Going somewhere is better than going nowhere. The journey doesn’t end if you arrive at the wrong place. The journey ends when you decide to stop going. Here I would like to add a story.

It had been one of those nights, the kind of night with an air of nostalgia. I don’t remember what had happened but I remember feeling miserable and lonely. I had nothing to do, no one to be with, and nowhere to go, so I decided to go downtown by myself. It was getting dark and I rode my bike forty five minutes to downtown Frankfurt. I sat by the river, and prayed and cried.  A strange man came by and started talking to me. He had had a throat surgery, he explained, so he spoke awkwardly. In half-German, half-English, with a foreign accent, he told me about his wife and daughter. I think he was Arab because of his accent and the close distance he tried to keep between us. He showed me a picture of his wife, a woman who was covered in a full burka*. I didn’t know what to say, I told him she was beautiful. He kept asking me for advice and I had no words, for I felt the most lost person in the world. I must’ve looked lost from his words and miserable, because after talking for a long while, he read my face. He apologized and left. It was late when I started riding back home, and it started raining. I thought to myself I deserved it. As I rode, I noticed a familiar street which I thought would be a shortcut; but I was wrong. At that moment I knew where I wanted to go. I wanted to go home. I just didn’t know how. The rain blinded my eyes, the water thickened by my own tears. With a swollen heart and eyes, I could hardly see the path before me. I tried guessing the direction, but each turn brought me deeper into the darkness of back alleys. I looked up to the black sky, hoping to hear a voice telling me where to go. I grew desperate of trying without success, of taking the wrong path, of riding the bike uphill (literally) and never getting to the top, of being lost in all possible senses.

Deep into the night, I finally started recognizing some buildings. When I knew where I was, I felt disappointed. I had been riding for so long and I wasn’t even halfway. In the midst of the rain, I stopped my bike. I started crying. Another man on a bike stopped and asked me if I was alright. I said I was fine, that I had been lost but now I knew where I was, and wasn’t happy about it. He thought I was drunk, and he didn’t just think it, he asked me too (you know, Germans can be pretty direct). I said no, but he didn’t believe me, I saw it on his face. He thought I was crazy, drunk, maybe something worse. He suggested I take the train. But that wasn’t the point. I wanted to get home by my own means. I was already soaking wet anyway, and getting home by train would take me just as long. I gathered my scattered pride and continued pedaling all the way home. As awkward and discouraging as the night had been, at least now I knew where I was going and how I was getting there. That’s what it took me to learn, to understand, and to purge myself. It was a night I will never forget.

This is what happens in life sometimes. Some paths take you somewhere you don’t want to go. Sometimes they seem familiar, like the right choice, or like a shortcut, but finally they lead you to the wrong places or end up getting you lost. If you know where you are going, just keep pedaling in that direction. Sooner or later you will either hit the right road or find someone who can direct you to it.

What if you have no idea where to go? Start walking: somewhere, anywhere. I know sometimes I myself feel too afraid to start walking because I fear I will end up in the wrong place, or taking the wrong path. I’m scared I will find myself in a place where I feel unhappy, or taking a path that is too hard. The truth is, there isn’t a perfect path, and our destination depends on us. Even if you don’t know where you want to go, do not stay standing. Life is too short to live static. If you start your journey not knowing where it will lead you, at least you have the chance to discover yourself and the things you like. Somewhere along the way you might find the path you were seeking, and had you not started walking, had you never known it was there. You might also find people who will guide you. As all of us do at some point in our lives, you will get lost sometimes, or make mistakes, but we all need to take those wrong turns. It is all part of the journey, part of its beauty. They help us remember where we do not want to go, and teach us life is not about getting somewhere as fast as possible. It’s about getting lost and found in a labyrinth. It’s about walking forward even in the most confusing, challenging, and lost stages of our lives; because all we need to do is keep walking. Somewhere. Anywhere. Life will take us where we need to go. If you stay motionless, you will never know where you were supposed to go, or the wonderful people and places you would have discovered.

Walk, keep walking, and live.

No comments:

Post a Comment