“Even though we don’t know where we’re going, we always end up somewhere.”

This is a quote I heard recently, not from some great philosopher or self-help guru, but from one of my best friends I had growing up. It wasn’t said about any particular life problem or situation, just about his trip back home from where he grew up to where he currently calls home. Given the context it really just seems like something someone may say when they’re headed out on a road trip with no particular destination, (which is exactly what he meant) but given our history and my uncanny ability to read way too much into things, the quote stuck and for reasons far greater than a simple road trip.

My friend’s journey is definitely one worth writing about, but as I have not asked for his permission to write about it, for now his journey will be his own, but just know that the somewhere he ended up is a long ways from where he began, or any of his closest friends would have imagined for him. A rough start in life does not guarantee a rough life, and his somewhere is something to be genuinely proud of today.

None of us truly know where we’re going in this life, we have ideas and plans and that’s generally where it all comes crashing down. As they say, “Life’s what happens while you’re busy making other plans.” So we plan to do this or that, and life has its own plan. It throws you this way or that, gives you opportunities where you never thought you’d have them and tears away the futures you had so neatly crafted for yourself, and that’s not always a bad thing.

When we’re young we believe we can do anything, we’re told we have the ability we just need the drive. But then reality sets in and we find that although we’ve always wanted to do something spectacular (such as write a world class blog), we find that our talents lie in other fields and even though we still partake in some of these other things, we see that our true talent lie elsewhere. For me, writing has always been a passion of mine. I’m not exactly world class at it by any means but it’s something I always enjoyed doing and if I could choose one thing to do for the rest of my life and actually make a living at it, it would most likely be telling stories and attempting to leave the world a little better off because of the life I lived and the stories I passed on. Big aspirations, but in reality my biggest accomplishment may end up being that I once got a report from The Washington Post to come visit my home town… It’s a huge deal for our community, but in my grand scheme of things…very far off from my life goals.

After attempting to find my passion in several different majors throughout my college experience, I finally found something I loved (Mass Communications) at the same point I lost the thing I loved the most (my mom to ovarian cancer in 2006). After she passed away I attempted to go back to school the following semester to continue my education but every time I sat in class and tried to concentrate on learning, I was filled with sadness about my loss and the whole concentration thing just didn’t seem to work.

I spent the following few month living, working, and dating in the town I hoped to eventually get back on track in and finish off my degree but after a bad break up I traveled down to spend some time with my brother and sister who convinced me that taking a road trip with my brother while we were still young enough to just go, was more important than what I had waiting for me back where I had come from…so we jumped in my mom’s old car, fueled by funds she had left to give us one last great Christmas (her favorite holiday) and traveled a huge portion of the U.S. We saw a ton of friends and family along our path, as well as some of the most beautiful country I have ever seen.

I’m not a religious person by any means, but I am a person of great faith…if that makes any sense to you. On this trip, I would get up every morning before sunrise and just walk around, sometimes with a good book, often with my camera, but more time than not, simply with my own thoughts. It was on one of these mornings while walking around the desert of Arizona that I got this overwhelming feeling that somewhere my mom was alright. I can’t quite explain the feeling, and this is the first time I’ve told anyone really about it, but for a brief moment there I was overjoyed with the fact that she, and everything else, was going to be alright. I had never had the feeling before then, and I haven’t had that feeling again, that’s how I knew it was something special.

Despite this moment of “awakening” I still remain unfazed by the fact that faith and going to church aren’t synonymous. I didn’t and don’t need a building to show me that there’s something bigger than myself, I just need good friends, a loving family, and the ability to see the good in all the individuals I meet along the way (a smile from a beautiful girl every now and again never hurts either!).

Faith, after all, can easily be summed up with the statement that began this post.

But the point of this post is that statement. We often find ourselves in anguish because this or that didn’t work out. I wanted to be a journalist one day, but instead I’m a business owner/landscaper/bus driver. None of these were really on my career aspirations list, but for the most part today they make me happy. I still get an opportunity to indulge my writer dream through a little blog post here and there, and even though not many people read it, it’s an outlet for me to keep those creative juices flowing. I may not be where I intended to be, but I’m certainly somewhere…and this somewhere currently works for me.

The remainder of my journey is as unknown as the beginning, but as usual I look forward to the ups and am better prepared than ever for the downs…life has a way of helping us with that. When I’ve reached my final somewhere, I hope that even though I never quite knew where I was going…I made the places I’ve been a little better with my presence, and that they’ve done the same for me.