I don’t know where I am—But I don’t think I care. I don’t know where I am going…but I know I will get there when I get there.

I don’t know where I am going for once—and that feels okay.

It’s January 18^th—the 10th day of my adventure—my journey. To my left are snow caps and to my right are endless mountains. I am sitting on a chair lift mapped to be in Italy but that appears to be Austria. I am in a realm where no one knows English, but nothing appears to be in Italian. There are not pizza shops on every corner and gelato isn’t screaming me from every window. I don’t know where I am—and for once—that feels okay…for once that feels more than okay.

The lift could stop in another city—another country—heck, another planet—and I would be delighted. For the first time in a long time I have not a care in the world. For the first time in a long time I don’t feel so lost. I am between a rock and a hard place (Aron Ralston) as the lift climbs, but I don’t have to cut off my arm at the top, I just have to breathe—I just have to take it in.

I will never climb Mount Everest, step on the moon, or slosh my way through Antarctica—none of the are on my bucket list, but I know after this moment, after this simple breath-taking moment—I will have truly graced the top of the world.

I am watching as the snow glows between dusk and night, reflecting a pink cosmic cloudless sky. I am watching as the world changes. I am watching everything move as I stand still. I am SEEING the world.

I don’t know where I am—city—country—state of mind—but for once, I am okay with that. I am more than okay with it.