There are times in life when we want to know where everything is going. We want the map. We want to know whether the job will work out, whether the relationship will become something, whether the idea will succeed, whether the person we just met will matter, or whether the unexpected door in front of us is one we’re supposed to walk through.
We want to know what it all means.
Lately, I have been wondering if maybe we don’t need to know.
Maybe we just need to participate.
Something has been changing in the way I approach my life. I am becoming more willing to say yes to things simply because I am curious—not recklessly, and not because I believe every opportunity is meant for me or every person who crosses my path has some grand purpose.
Sometimes something simply interests me. I might learn something. I might meet someone. It might lead somewhere. And sometimes I just want to see what happens.
There is tremendous freedom in that.
Learning to Receive Without Standing Still
For much of our lives, we are taught to think in straight lines. Go to school. Build a career. Get married. Buy the house. Raise the children. Save for retirement. Plan the next thing and then the thing after that.
Life is supposed to move neatly from Point A to Point B.
Except life rarely does.
Relationships end. Careers change. Friendships begin. Something we worked incredibly hard for doesn’t happen. Someone unexpectedly walks into our lives. An invitation arrives that doesn’t fit anywhere on the plan, and suddenly there is a road in front of us that wasn’t on the map.
I think there was a time when that would have made me uncomfortable. I would have immediately wanted to know:
Where is this going?
Now I find myself asking a different question:
Do I want to experience this?
That question doesn’t require a guarantee. It only requires curiosity.
I am learning how to receive while I am still learning how to do.
Receiving doesn’t mean standing still and waiting for life to happen. We can continue working, learning, creating, building, meeting people and moving ourselves forward while remaining open to what we didn’t plan.
Maybe I meet someone and we become friends. Maybe we don’t. Maybe I try something new and discover it isn’t for me. Maybe I attend a gathering and hear one sentence that changes the way I think. Maybe an introduction leads to an idea, the idea becomes a project, and the project becomes an opportunity I couldn’t have imagined beforehand.
Or maybe I simply have an interesting afternoon.
That counts too.
Not everything has to become something bigger in order to have been worthwhile.
Not Every Experience Has to Produce a Result
I think this is something I understand now that I didn’t understand when I was younger.
We spend so much time trying to identify the important moments while we’re living them. Is this the opportunity? Is this the person? Is this the answer? Is this what I’m supposed to be doing?
Without realizing it, we can place an enormous burden on ourselves: the burden of making every experience produce a result.
What if it doesn’t have to?
What if some experiences are here to teach us something? What if some people are simply meant to be enjoyed while they’re in our lives? What if an opportunity teaches us what we don’t want? What if something that seems insignificant today becomes useful five years from now?
Some of the most important things in our lives probably didn’t announce themselves when they arrived.
They began quietly; a conversation, an introduction, an idea, an invitation, a decision to show up. One small yes followed by another.
Looking backward, we can connect the dots.
Looking forward, we usually can’t.
Life May Be More Like a Web Than a Road
Maybe that’s because life isn’t always a straight road. Sometimes it’s more like a web.
One experience connects to another. One person introduces us to someone else. Something we learned ten years ago suddenly becomes useful today. A disappointment redirects us toward something we never would have considered otherwise. A skill we thought had nothing to do with our future becomes exactly what we need.
Eventually, all these separate pieces of our lives don’t look quite so separate anymore.
They’ve been weaving themselves together.
That doesn’t mean we stop planning or sit back and wait for life to happen to us. I believe exactly the opposite.
We do the work. We learn. We create. We take care of our responsibilities. We develop our skills, make the phone call, attend the meeting, write the chapter, send the application, introduce ourselves and accept the invitation.
We keep casting the net.
But perhaps we loosen our grip on what we insist the net must bring back.
That is the part I’m learning.
Direction Without a Fixed Destination
I can have direction without knowing the destination.
I know what matters to me. I want purpose, security, creativity, meaningful work, connection, laughter, friendship, interesting conversations, freedom and peace. I want to keep learning and creating.
Those are my coordinates.
What I’m beginning to release is the belief that I must know exactly which road will take me there.
There is room now for the unexpected. There is room for people I haven’t met yet, opportunities I don’t know exist and ideas I haven’t thought of. There is room to change my mind. There is even room to walk through a door, look around and decide, No, this isn’t for me.
Because that is learning too.
We can work hard and receive. We can have goals and remain open. We can make plans and change direction. We can want something without demanding it. We can meet someone without deciding who they need to become, and we can walk through a door without knowing what room is waiting on the other side.
Maybe security doesn’t always come from controlling the outcome.
Maybe sometimes it comes from trusting ourselves to meet the outcome.
Trusting the Next Step
For me, there is also faith inside all of this.
I can trust God without expecting Him to hand me the entire itinerary.
Maybe I get enough light for the next few steps, and then I walk.
I pay attention. I use my judgment. I stay curious. I keep working. I remain open to receiving. And when another door appears, I decide whether I want to open it.
There may be things happening in our lives right now that won’t make sense until much later—the person we met, the idea we can’t stop thinking about, the thing that didn’t work, the invitation we’re considering, the skill we’re learning, the unexpected detour, the door that closed or the one that just cracked open.
Maybe instead of immediately asking, Where is this going? we can ask:
What is this asking me to experience right now?
Learn what there is to learn. Meet who there is to meet. Do the work that’s yours to do. Pay attention to what sparks something inside you. Rest when you need to. Stay open.
And perhaps most importantly, stop carrying the burden of making every experience become something.
Some things will grow.
Some will connect to something else.
Some will change us.
Some will simply pass through our lives like a breath.
And that’s okay.
We don’t have to understand the entire story while we’re still living the middle of it.
Maybe the next chapter of our lives isn’t something we’re supposed to predict.
Maybe we’re supposed to participate in it.