Fear of choosing the wrong path

I uprooted my entire life. But, was it a life really? What is life? So many times I hear friends and family on the weekends express the dread of going “back to real life”. Oh, the Mondays. However, I don’t consider those days the “real life”. The real life is on your weekends, your vacations, your after hours. Those moments with friends and family, or maybe strangers. You’re smiling, laughing, or maybe you’re enjoying quiet and alone. Either way, you feel at peace. You may not feel care free, but you feel at one with yourself. In nature, watching the game, working on something your passionate about...

I wanted to make “real life” my everyday life. And I did. I quit my job, moved out of my apartment, travelled solo with no plans and even bought a one way ticket out of the country. I’ve explored a few different hobbies and random jobs. I’ve read many books and met countless new people. But, I have yet to figure out what my path is supposed to be. What am I put on this earth to do? Maybe that’s my path - just the journey. The search. The daily discovery of what makes me happy, anxious, at peace, joyful, fulfilled. Feeling useful is something I’ve recently encountered to be important. Being missed and missing others also seems to be vital to real life. Love. Love is key - no matter what the form. But these aren’t careers, or cities, or people. These are feelings. Is that “real life”? Just feelings, emotions and sensations? Not people, places or things?

And what if I take a step, or even run a full marathon, in the wrong direction? “You can always turn around.” Those were the words of the best advice my mom ever gave me. They echo between my ears on a daily basis. And, I do turn around all the time. I’m making movement though. One step forward and two steps back? Well, maybe I’m supposed to be back there. Maybe that is my path. This crooked, windy, path of ups and downs. No one can follow it. Where is it taking me? Who knows, and really, who cares? I’ve always appreciated the journey more than the destination. Why should my life journey be any different than an 18 day backpacking trip? Why don’t I just hang back, take it slow, and be my team's adventure photographer?