Far From Home

This week I realized: it's okay to be lost. 

Two miles, three lefts, and one long, winding road into my jog. I look up to realize I have no friggin' clue where I am. Well, maybe I knew a little bit. I'm smarter than just wandering off down random (albeit, very friendly-looking) back roads. To be perfectly clear, I had a rough idea of where I was, but that's besides the point.

In this singular moment of wild confusion, I was able to actually stop, breathe, listen, see. 

Being in unfamiliar surroundings allowed me to notice & experience things for the first time--something I haven't done in a long time. 

There was the hazy, soporific, blueish-gray sky above me. The open pasture to my right, the way bare tree branches stood stark in contrast, mangled twists of limbs against an ethereal backdrop. Maybe I'd been feeling a bit lost in my own mind. And that's okay, because maybe that's exactly what led me here.

It's okay to be lost. And it's okay to veer direction a million times if necessary to find your way again. You might end up in the last place you expected to. You might just find you love it


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