Earlier this week I moved out of my apartment and am currently staying on a farm in northern Massachusetts. I’ll be here for two weeks, with no definitive plans beyond that. For all intents and purposes, I’m a nomad, albeit a nomad with access to a car and an AirBnB account. 

My wanderings offer an opportunity to, as David Epstein puts it in his book Range, “flirt with [my] possible selves.” As humans, we often try to plan so far in advance that, when we finally complete the anticipated goal, we’re dubious of how much we really wanted it to begin with. I know I’ve been guilty of that, too many times to count. It’s the reason why you shouldn’t marry your high school sweetheart, because you just don’t know what you don’t know, and how could you? We can be so eager to get on a path, to feel like we’re building towards something instead of dillydallying, that we don’t stop and take a moment to ask, is this the right path for me? 

I took the photo of this tree while walking in the woods today, a visual representation of my potential selves. I can’t wait to meet them over the coming weeks and months.