To begin this blog I should perhaps lay bare the ideas that have brought about this decision. To go off alone with no plan and little direction may seem like madness to some, but beneath the surface there lies a collection of thoughts that have driven this choice—thoughts that began to take shape during my last semester of college and which have since that time grown and gained force in my mind.
I would be lying if I didn’t admit that this journey owes a debt of gratitude to the poor job market; in fact it is not at all unreasonable to see it as a reaction to that world of unappealing prospects and oh-so-many unanswered resumes. It is not, however, a case of running away; just running in a different direction. Since graduating, my hard work has taken me to very different places than I had anticipated and, to cut short what could be a lengthy story, has led me to question one of the pillars of my worldview: that if you just work hard now, you’ll eventually find happiness.
This trip is in many ways an experiment in trying the other path—seeing what would happen if a person were to throw caution to the wind and burn their candle at both ends. To go where you want to go, to see what you want to see, and to fully connect with the momentary whims that we are forced to drown inside us to maintain an ordered life. Is a life without this order reasonable or even enjoyable? What kind of order would replace it if given the chance, and is there a middle ground between the two? Indeed, while I am tempted to agree with many that beatnik aspirations are only realistic until the money runs out, perhaps seeing the extreme other end of the spectrum can help one gain perspective on where that “sweet spot” between work and play lies. Life cannot simply be about working until you die, and if it is no more likely that it is about wanton hedonism, then there must exist an optimum point between the two and I intend to find it.
There is a second aim in slipping away from the ordered routine of daily life, and that is to better understand myself. Routine wears deep our grooves, and friends are ties that bind us to our past. In this day-to-day world, the relationships we have, the tasks we perform, and even the places we inhabit anchor us to a certain self. It is only by divesting ourselves of these expectations and encountering new situations and new people that we are able to observe what remains when you separate man from his environment. To understand who I am at my deepest, most core level I must strike out and engage the unknown.
And yet, there is another reason. Apart from lofty questions of mind and meaning, this journey calls out to me with the simple tug that exists in every man’s heart: to see if he can. This idea – to go off alone with no plan and little direction – is like a challenge to all my instincts of self-preservation. A challenge to worry and fear, to anxiety and mistrust, to xenophobia and discomfort. In my mind it is a precipice overlooking a dark and yawning chasm. I toe the edge and wonder what lies beyond that blackened veil. It’s a terrifying thought, yet strangely seductive. Can I take that step? What will I find? I don’t know yet, but it is in taking that step that one chooses to live.
