I drove fast with the wind in my hair, down the Oregon country road in a flurry about how life would be so different in such a short time. Actually, I didn’t have hair, just a beard… The wind was in that, though, and everything felt momentary, all about to change so quick and righteous. Little did I know of the path ahead, and of its gatekeepers who stood before my vision of the future.
I talked with my girlfriend about how we’d be traveling soon, like the people we’d seen through a lens on our phones, twirling amidst sunsets, oceans, and ancient streets. That would be us soon, and we had money saved and nothing to worry about.
Then with an explosion, we set off, possessions sold quick, and strode across the uncharted world with our cameras and bright smiles ready to face the darkest alleyway and show its beauty.
We had ideas.
Of who we’d be and where it would happen.
I’ve seen many dreams die. Some have been mine, some belong to others. I’ve written a book to hate it, moved to a new state for a university only to pack everything in my car and return home three weeks later, thrived as a vegan only to decide life isn’t whole without a bit of cheese every once in a while…
Now I don’t know what to do, but this doesn’t feel entirely right.
I feel like this feeling has chased me since I took my first steps to becoming an adult. The feeling that things aren’t right. I left my first job field, cooking, and my second after that, because of burnout, boredom, a conflict of personal interest, and reality not meeting my expectations.
Yet I’ve always held strong ideas of what I should be doing. I know I want to finish writing my books, and I have tons of stories to share. Though sometimes fear has kept my actions at bay, and when the fear hasn’t been there, the world has often not permitted me to live as I’d wish.
Travel was a wish that had deflated too early, leaving me stuck in my home for years to chip away at school and figure out the hard things when I was too young to face them, when I yearned to be abroad as a disheveled vagabond with no way to go.
When I wrote this last month, I rented a BnB in a nowhere town to reconfigure my life before my flight in October, to a place further still from where I began. I gave myself time to settle in, to find my bearings before my next adventure, and it helped immensely. Even now, as my time here ends, I have no idea where life will lead me. Despite all this doubt, I know that somehow I’m headed the right way.
With bright plans for the future, I wish you the best.
Post on Turkey soon 🙂
Live your way,
Noah
Most who wander are at least looking?
I wonder what it is you search for so far away <3