When losing the way becomes part of finding it
I remember once taking a long walk through the Sahyadri hills, chasing a trail someone had spoken about—a quiet place tucked away from the noise of the world. They said it led to a forgotten temple, a place where silence hung like incense in the air.
I followed vague directions, a crumpled map, and a bit of instinct. But after an hour of climbing, ducking under branches, and stepping around loose stones, I realized the path was either gone or never really there. My phone gave up. My sense of direction blurred. I stood under a tree, breath heavy, unsure of whether to keep going or turn back.
Just then, I saw an old shepherd passing by with a few goats. I asked him if I’d taken the wrong way.
He paused, looked at me kindly, and said, “Maybe. Or maybe this is the path you needed to take first.”
And then he walked on.
That moment stayed with me. We often think of being lost as something negative—as if not knowing is a weakness, or as if confusion is a problem to be solved immediately.
But what if getting lost is not a failure at all?
In today’s world, where everything is expected to be optimized, goal-oriented, and efficient, we’ve forgotten that the human journey is rarely linear. The soul doesn’t move in straight lines. It meanders. It questions. It pauses in places we didn’t plan.
Sometimes, you aren’t growing, or building, or healing. Sometimes, you’re just… not sure. And that’s okay. That’s not being broken. That’s being human.
Being lost is a sacred space. It’s where the old maps no longer work, and the new ones haven’t formed yet. It’s where silence finally gets a voice. It’s where truth begins to whisper—after the noise of certainty dies down.
If you’re in that space now—uncertain, adrift, waiting—know this:
You don’t need to explain it.
You don’t need to fix it.
You just need to allow it.
Let this be your permission to not know.
To not rush.
To be gently, beautifully, momentarily lost.
Because sometimes, that’s the only way we ever really find our way home.
Letters for the Inner Journey by Pushkar
Whisper back, if the letter spoke to you.