in estonia there is (or maybe was) a question — where do you see yourself in 5-years? usually, i heard it at job interviews.
i don’t know if it’s globally epidemic though. if it breathes across cultures. perhaps it does, you know, in one form or another.
but i do know, there’s a question that travels with the wind, which is, who do you want to be when you grow up?
children’s imagination is wildly simple. i’ve heard a rainbow of answers fly through their mouth.
i want to be a doctor. a dancer. a mechanic. a teacher. a singer. a pilot. a firefighter. anything. everything. you name it.
all answers seem to be tied with their favorite family member, or with an evoked inspiration from a friend, or an insight into new dimensions from a (comic) book or a tv, like, i want to be a superman. or i want to be a princess.
i, i rarely had an answer.
when a question was asked, my mind went blank. my playfulness, it flew away. i shut down. i felt powerless. even helpless to come up with something. with anything.
i couldn’t imagine what might be. i think, i never could. ever.
i guess i was scared to dream. scared of my own dreams. scared my dreams are not mine to have. scared my dreams are too big for me. scared if i choose now, it’s fixed forever.
but turned out, i was confused instead. and still, am.
in my adolescence, i heard, what do you want to study?
i don’t know, i thought. fuck school.
when i finished secondary school with a diploma in personal computers, i heard, where do you want to work?
i don’t know, i said. nothing feels right.
when i quit my loved well-paid job in a big corporation and became a nomad, i heard, how long you’ll be traveling?
i don’t know, i said. maybe forever. i’ll go, and then i’ll see.
when i abandoned money for years to come, i heard, who’s gonna help you?
i don’t know, i said. maybe people like you?
when i was ready to jump on a bicycle to glide through central america, i heard, you don’t have a bike, how are you gonna cycle?
i don’t know, i said. i hope it finds me. if not, i’ll walk if needed.
when i entered united states of america on human-powered wheels, i heard, how long and how far you’re going to cycle?
i don’t know, said. i’ll either go to the west or east. and then, hopefully, do parts of europe.
when i fell madly in love on the road, i heard, when will i see you again?
i don’t know, i said. soon, i hope. when? who knows.
when i arrived home 5 years later with 31 countries and 10’000 km on my check account, i heard, are you going to stay?
i don’t know, i said. we will see.
when i left home two months later to write a book, i heard, when will you publish the book?
i don’t know, i said. only life knows.
when, instead of writing, i was pulled into the darkest moments of my conscious life for months to come, i heard, when are you going to snap out?
i don’t know, i thought. maybe never.
when i moved back to estonia and began my first draft of the memoir in writing, i heard, what’s inside the book? is it gonna be a bestseller?
i don’t know, i said. it’s just a story of me intertwined with the stories of others. i am the writer. and i am the reader. but if guided to share, i allow the exploration into my lively affairs.
when in the height of another relocation, i heard, where are you going now?
i don’t know, i said. maybe to the countryside to grow my own food.
when i got tired to accept invitations to small projects with more work and less pay, i heard, why don’t you go to work like normal people do?
i don’t know, i said. my resume is blank with 7 years of emptiness. i’m being turned down from jobs i’d go for.
when, through miraculous synchronicities, i was hired to a small company who builds mobile apps, i heard, are you going to leave work when you finish writing your book?
i don’t know, i said. maybe not. it’s still a minimum of 3-4 years from today before i will even ship it.
and here i am today.
3 days working. 4 days writing. and i don’t know what, why, when and how.
truthfully, i don’t like my work. it’s not my team. it’s not my job. but there are gifts i cannot nor will not deny. i enjoy inner growth my job provides. also, i get paid comfortably for a part-time job. better than the majority of estonians for a full-time job.
it’s unfair. i don’t know how people survive in this.
maybe it’s the question of what’s next that keeps them floating. that pulls them into the sweet moment of the dreamy state where hopes come and go like waves in the stormy weather.
but my body, it doesn’t function in questions of what’s next. i guess, it rarely has. by now, i’ve played the game of what’s next for thirty-four years. i feel strongly, it’s not my playground. and i’ve learned, statistics can mislead but feelings never do.
so yes, i am confused. and it’s okay.
i don’t know how to make writing, nature, relationships, self-care and work mingle in a unified field. but somehow i manage. i don’t know how. i guess, it’s an art of body’s guidance wherein i don’t know answers to what, why, when and how of what’s next.
i just breathe. feel. be.
and somehow, in this mystery, i feel relaxed. after three decades of turmoil, i feel home. i see clearly now, being relaxed anywhere anytime is what i’ve always desired.
what if the power of i don’t know in questions of what’s next is my medicine to breathe in the unknown of the unexpected?
my past says, hell yeah.
i didn’t know who i want to be.
i didn’t know what i want to study.
i didn’t know where i want to work.
i didn’t know i would go traveling.
i didn’t know i would abandon money.
i didn’t know i would cycle half of the world.
i didn’t know i would start writing a book.
i didn’t know i would grow my own food.
i didn’t know i would get paid for chasing pixels.
i didn’t know any of that.
on the road,
i didn’t know where i would sleep.
when i would get food.
who i would meet.
i didn’t know.
but, everything worked out.
it always did. and, i guess, it always will.
and i wonder if today i am reaping the fruits of my younger self? if i am tasting her blossoming courage in the ocean of guiding confusion?
i see,
knowing is okay. it’s good.
not knowing is okay too. it’s good.
but if it’s joking, it’s time to breathe.
from what i hear and see and feel, society, at all times, breeds the need to know the unknowable. the need to predict the unpredictable. the need to control the uncontrollable. the need to imagine the unimaginable.
so, where do i see myself in 5-years time?
i don’t know.
who i would like to become?
i don’t know.
will i quit my job?
i don’t know.
all i know, from lived experience, life happens.
life has given me people, places, things i didn’t know to ask for. i didn’t know to dream of. i didn’t know i needed.
life has made me better through the power of whatever.
my imagination wasn’t broken.
my law of attraction skills weren’t broken.
and nothing’s broken even today.
i would have never guessed i’d study computers. then become a nomad. then a writer. and what’s next?
i don’t know. and it’s okay to not know.
what comes comes anyways.
why ‘what’ comes is what i need.
when ‘why’ comes is divinely timed in me.
i will become aware of it, to feel it.
i will feel it, to transform it.
i will transform it, to be it.
and i will survive it, to live it.
and here’s today’s question to your heart.
what if the unknown in questions of what’s next cracks me open to receive all that i came here to experience to become better through the power of whatever?