Take The Path You Never Thought You’d Travel
Because it’s the void between what you knew and what you’re yet to discover that makes you understand who you are. It’s then you realize exactly what you want, and determine exactly who you’d like to keep as you think of embarking on your next adventure.
By Aditi Ghosh
Sometimes, we’re forced to make the deliberate choice of choosing to walk down the unfamiliar path. And when we do, life unfolds in ways that we never fathomed.
The unknown alley is always frightening, with dimly lit lights and often darkness passages where we need to walk against the walls to find the door. But if we choose to look at it differently, the same alley also emits chinks of light from under the closed doors.
It’s a nerve wracking situation because when you get there, you don’t know anyone. You could wait for marvels to happen to you, but this space also urges you to understand others for once.
Unfamiliar people infuse hope into our lives when they suddenly walk in; sometimes we compare them with people we already know, and at other times we wonder why we never met them before. Despite going astray and not knowing what comes next, there’s a certain sense of tranquility in just not knowing.
Because it’s the void between what you knew and what you’re yet to discover that makes you understand who you are. It’s then you realize exactly what you want, and determine exactly who you’d like to keep as you think of embarking on your next adventure. The crevices in the ground stop seeming like obstacles, but instead they disguise themselves as messages that connect into a coherent structure every single day. You know exactly when you want to sway between company and solitude, and you do so very effortlessly.
More surprisingly, you feel a lot more compassionate because of how life unravels when you least expect it to. You want to love just a little more than you ever thought you could, because it seems right. You want to forgive one more time because you start believing just a bit more. You laugh when you find something funny, and sometimes you just laugh for no reason at all — because you are happy.
Nobody will press the torchlight button to show you where to go. You may need to trudge past the rustled leaves on the ground that nobody will sweep aside. But you never looked up. When you do, you see that the unfamiliar esplanade has no ceiling. One look at the sky, and that glistening stars shed all the light that you ever need, and sprinkles of joy stream through and clear your path.
In a way, the darkness that surrounds you forces you to find the light in everything you do. It gives you faith that things will be alright. You like being lost because the there’s only one person who’s still finding you — and that’s you.
So now I cannot look back, because what I have now is something I had never envisioned as we scribbled our names on that wall. Our engraving will remain, but maybe there are other risks still worth taking that you’ve never thought about.
We all are writing our story, even when we don’t realize that we are. Reading the previous chapter inspires us to bridge the gap between what was and what will be. But dwelling on the defunct moments and endless possibilities makes us lose sight of one thing: now.
I know someday you’ll know the difference between dreams and delusion; for now, I’ll just tell you one thing — turn the page.