Choice at a crossroad. When indecision takes over travelling

The world is a sphere, the centre is everywhere. The peak of the Mount Everest, a bar in Berlin, or this crossroad, where I stand, unable to chose a direction, have the same value: every point is the access to everywhere.

The world is a sphere, the centre is everywhere. The peak of the Mount Everest, a bar in Berlin, or this crossroad, where I stand, unable to chose a direction, have the same value: every point is the access to everywhere. Everywhere everywhere, I can go everywhere. The sun is high, strong, the road empty.

I sit down, staring up the road. I could stay here one day, one life, thinking about where I want to go, who I am, who I want to be, because I am what I do, and my actions have the same value of eternity: time has no way back. A lizard peep out from a stone, a long line of ants cross the road and vanishes in the grass. I am my choices, this is the value and the burden of freedom of find a direction, of travelling. What to do? Where to go if am free to go everywhere? Who am I? Who I want to be? No choice looks for ever, I feel I am constantly at a crossroad, or is indecision a part of myself? Maybe that is why I love the sea, as water I never have a fixed shape.

I would forget doubts and fear for a deep release to the horizon, to the trip, to the knowledge of my self. I wish a help, an advice, a friend, but I know the answer will come only from my self. The crossroad is mute, empty.

An empty long and wide road coming out from a crossorad. It corsses a vast plateau. There are mountain far away from the horizon.
credit Richard Saxon

Gabi

I am Gabi, an itinerant traditional music player and storyteller, founder and content writer of OTW.

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