After a good few months on the road, getting lost literally and figuratively in various cultures, cul-de-sacs, cafes, language barriers, dead ends, winding forest paths, I've come to realize one thing.

You have to get lost, to find your way again.

Lost.

It has such a strong connotation, doesn't it?

Lost.

Can mean that I don't know what I'm doing.

Can mean that crazy TV show set in another dimension.

Can mean that I have failed.

Can mean that I don't have all the answers.

Can mean that I am confused.

Or.

It can mean, that this the time of greatest expansion and growth.

The time we can most clearly see the path before us and how to get on it.

The time for the greatest connection to our own being and our personal missions.

The time to shake off things that are no longer serving us and get really clear on what we want.

--

Without occasionally being lost, we would not question the stories being thrown on us.

We would not know if these ideals are still serving us, or if we are carrying these to please our parents, our mentors, our bosses, our friends, our appearances.

We would not know if these roles are us, or a character we play for everyone else.

We would not know how much of our lives are dictating by the fear of getting lost.

--

Lost.

Up until a few weeks ago, I feared that word.

My worth was based on knowing what I wanted to be when I grew up. Knowing exactly where my life would lead. Knowing that I appeared to have my life together. Knowing exactly what I liked and disliked. Knowing that I had control. Knowing that there was some sort of logic and order and system and fairness and ideal state to be strived for. That all those steps somehow equated to... Happiness? Success? And that anything less than knowing meant that I was somehow less than.

But in the known there is no expansion. There is no growth. There is no fun. There is no revelry.

Most of all, for me, the known held nothing that felt authentic. It felt restricting.

There was no magic, fun, curiosity, play, nor joy.

There was no space for... Me.

So I'm slowly, slowly learning to let go and love the process, love getting lost, love trying and failing, love following whims and fancies wherever they lead or don't lead, love not having the answers for "Where do you see yourself in the next five years?"

Because whose five year plan actually turns out exactly as they had thought?

Four years ago, if you had ask me where I would be today, I would have told you with absolute certainty that I would be a doctor.

Today, I am definitely not a doctor.

I am more of myself.

I know that I feel most connected when I am creating--art, illustration, design, photography, meals, experiences, communities, products, stories--with friends or people who feel like my closest friends. I love bringing people together over shared meals. I crave authentic conversations. And I love being around my friends who make me feel at home wherever I am in the world.

--

A dear friend recently wrote to me asking about her next steps.

I told her, in the best way that I could, to Get Lost.

Get lost, so that you can find your way again.

Because the one thing that I have found to be true, is that in times of greatest uncertainty, that is when the greatest breakthroughs come through. If we choose to stay there, stay calm, listen and act when we are so moved.

--

It's been so fun seeing you, dear friends, get lost then found, lost then found on your varying and multi-dimensional journeys. So fun being along for the ride and sharing in the ups and downs, the joys, the chaos, the revelations and the revelry. I have found so many curiosities, gems along my path that I'm taking forward and a number of stories, habits and mindsets that I'm leaving behind.

I'm looking forward to way more brunches, bonfires, sunsets, roadtrips, coffees, potlucks, Skype dates, travel stories, chance encounters, collaborations, seredipities. Because those are the moments that matter the most on our road ahead.

Emily

Getting Lost.