No destination
where the journey beginns
I just had a memory. Twelve years ago, I came across an anonymous quote, scribbled inside a book my brother found at a hostel in Australia.
A warrior’s path never ends, as there is no destination, only the journey.
The book – it was ‘Way of a Peaceful Warrior’ by Dan Millman – I never finished reading and, in fact, barely remember. However, the quote, or at least my memory of it, has never left me. I have recited and adapted it so many times since then that it feels like my own, and until now, I even forgot it wasn’t.
Whenever I had to write a greeting card – a kind of writing I truly hate – I leaned on the quote as a quick fix: May your path never end, congrats on another year of your journey, Happy birthday.
However, it took me years to understand why it resonates so deeply. It’s my life summed up in one sentence. Not that I see myself as a warrior, neither cruel nor peaceful. I lack discipline, and although I don’t know much about warriors, I’m pretty sure discipline is a must-have.
But let’s just drop that word: A path never ends, as there is no destination, only the journey. Bam. Epic. Simple. Maybe a little too dramatic. And I still don’t know whether I should take it as a promise or a threat.
For the last 15 years, I have lived in temporary states: temporary jobs, temporary places, temporary flats, temporary relationships. No final destination, always with one foot on the path. My possessions nowadays fit in five boxes and a backpack. The more I move, the more I leave behind.
This lifestyle wasn’t a decision – it just happened. Most of the time, it felt like a necessity, an unavoidable trial-and-error process. And although nothing I’ve faced so far threatened my life, I just couldn’t live in any situation longer. I never understood how people can simply accept and adapt to a situation where they feel stuck or which might be even harmful, if, theoretically, they have the possibility to move on and try something else.
I can’t. I’ve tried, but I can’t – and I’m not sure yet if that’s good or bad. Sooner or later, I always reach a tipping point where I think ‘It’s enough!’, and there is no way back. Maybe after three years, maybe after three months. Then I change my setting.
Of course, this isn’t always easy, and sometimes it takes a while until I can truly act. Like all humans, I get used to things – even if they aren’t healthy – and I like comfort. Constantly changing, however, isn’t comfortable. It’s fucking exhausting.
But at the same time, there is always massive relief when I leave behind a part of my life that once seemed so promising but no longer fits. I feel sad, but free. And I love my new beginnings – moving to an unknown place, starting a new idea, meeting different people. Being fulfilled by curiosity and openness to learn and grow through new experiences. My life is never boring, and change makes me thrive. It’s my magic potion.
However, with every change, with every new journey, also comes the silent hope that this time it will be the right thing. The right place. The right idea. The right person. A destination. Finally.
Some people believe I’m running away from something. But that’s not true. I’m running towards something. In fact, I’m not even running – I’m in slow motion, tracing an invisible path, like a snail slowly feeling its way forward with its antennae, dodging obstacles, changing direction. I might not know where I’m going, but I know when it’s time to go.
This time, my antennae led me to Brazil, to the countryside of Serra Negra, São Paulo. Six weeks ago, I left my previous life in Berlin – again with a silent hope and expectation that this time I would finally arrive. And while I sit at my new temporary desk, gazing through a blue-framed window at the spring rain nurturing the Atlantic rainforest, I have a memory...
A warrior’s path never ends, as there is no destination, only the journey.
Is it curse or blessing? I don’t know yet. But I won’t stop until I find out.