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With all my rush to get here, I’ve forgotten why I came.
I’m in Goa, India, sitting in a Nepalese restaurant by the beach typing. Words are my anchor. Will they help me find myself? The beach is like a white canvas stretched out and striped with delicate skeleton of hand-made bridges, which take resort guests out to hotel-manned large beach umbrellas, lounge chairs and sun tanning stations. Much of what surrounds this is space.
I made no plans, plotted no route or destination. I assume I’d just Be, Experience, Live…and the path would magically create itself. What a fool.
Where shall I go next?
The question begs a deeper reflection and sharper query:
Why are you here?
I’ve waited all these years to return to India. Now that I’ve arrived, I realize I feel lost. Aimless. Directionless. Like a boat adrift without a compass, I begin to panic.
Traveling solo is exhilarating but also scary. You’re faced with yourself asking existential questions, to which the solutions are just as vague. Sometimes, I doubt the tenacity of my courage to continue. I feel timid, vulnerable, uncertain and sometimes, this freedom feels like a curse. Freedom is only good if you know what you want. I don’t. Right now I just want to know where to go to next..
In my bubble of panic, I hear my inner voice say —
It’s okay to be afraid. It’s okay to stop and just breathe… Be patient.
Close your eyes, shut out the world outside and listen to your heart.
Let silence create a bridge and one step find another and another…
Through struggle, courage and listening, that which you’re searching for, you’ll eventually see…