voluntarily lost.

I am afraid of being lost.

I mean this in the physical sense. I look at maps and they make me feel safe. I study directions before I even have my shoes on. I don't usually wander, especially not in a car. Rarely on foot.

This is on a long list of things about myself that I am constantly denying and/or trying to change. I often claim to love spontaneity and adventure, but the real truth is I appreciate spontaneity and adventure, I don't often regret it, but I rarely long for it. What I long for is comfort, safety and familiarity. Is that so bad? I don't know. Do I wish I was different? Yes. Sure, I find contentment easily. It doesn't take much to make me happy. But what about excitement? I don't know.

Well, I'm thinking about this today after reading this post and wondering at the joy of being voluntarily lost. When I'm on my own, I am never voluntarily lost. And sometimes I struggle to be lost when I write. But I try to practice. I force myself to write even when I hate it (except sometimes I clean the kitchen and read a book instead). But slowly I'm loving it more, loving the freedom that comes from writing each word without knowing what comes next.

What's my point? Who knows. Practice the things you want to be, even if you aren't there yet. Teach yourself wordy and profound lessons that you never actually learn. Wander around somewhere or in something. Today I'm wandering around in the unknowing future, and with each breath and passing moment I am a little less scared. It takes time to get there. But here's the awesome thing about not knowing: the potential for an amazing, beautiful, wild life that you never could have imagined. I have experienced what I never could have imagined and didn't even know I wanted until I had it and it was the best-thing-ever. I can believe in that.