“A Life in Draft Mode”

Some of us just can’t commit—to careers, hobbies, or even which course to finish on Coursera. Our browsers are graveyards of half-completed course tabs and “maybe later” tutorials. We fall in love with ideas too easily: storytelling one day, science the next. Our minds wander through the worlds of design, healing, nature, and art like tourists on a never-ending trip.

Last week, it was poster designing. This week? Starting a business sounds thrilling. And please, don’t ask us what we want to do with our lives—we’re still trying to decide what to have for dinner.

There’s a whole group of people like this—people who are endlessly curious. People who light up when they learn something new, who get excited by ideas, who don’t want to be stuck in one role forever.

And yet, when it’s time to choose, we freeze.
Because how do you pick just one thing when so many things feel exciting, meaningful, and worth doing?

No matter what we choose, it feels like we’re leaving something else behind.

We grow up hearing things like “Find your passion” or “Stick to one goal”—as if the only right path is a straight one. As if not knowing is a weakness. As if changing your mind is failure.

But what if not choosing just one thing doesn’t mean you’re lost—what if it means you're still exploring?

Here’s the truth: feeling uncertain isn’t a flaw. It’s a sign that you care. That you want to make the right choice. That you’re aware of how many possibilities exist—and that you’re open to growth.

It’s also a reminder that you don’t need to have it all figured out.
Life isn’t a blueprint—it’s a draft. Something we’re constantly editing, rewriting, and learning from as we go.

Many of us have felt guilty for not having a dream job or a five-year plan. We’ve tried to squeeze ourselves into roles that didn’t quite fit. We’ve wondered if we’re wasting time because we haven’t "settled."

But if your mind is alive with ideas, your heart drawn in different directions, and your soul still searching—that’s not a problem. That’s part of your magic.

Being unsettled doesn’t mean you’re failing. It means you’re evolving.

Maybe you won’t have just one calling. Maybe your life will come in seasons—each one different, each one with something to teach you. Maybe you’ll never “arrive” in the traditional sense.
Instead, you’ll build a life that’s flexible, creative, and entirely your own.

And maybe, that’s the point.

So here’s to the ones who haven’t chosen yet. The ones still figuring it out. The ones with too many dreams and not enough lifetimes. You’re not broken. You’re simply made of many things—and that’s a beautiful way to be.

In a world that tells us to pick one path, one label, one definition of success—it’s easy to feel out of place when your heart belongs to many. But not finding satisfaction in a single thing doesn’t mean you’re lost. It might just mean you’re meant to explore.

Some people find joy in depth. Others thrive in breadth. Having multiple passions—and a hunger for more—isn’t a flaw. It’s the mark of a curious, evolving mind.

Fulfillment doesn’t always come from stillness. Sometimes, it comes from movement. From variety. From the freedom to reinvent yourself again and again.

You don’t have to fit into one mold. You’re allowed to be a work in progress—
a mosaic of experiences, a story that’s still being written.

And maybe, just maybe, the search itself is the satisfaction.

"Navigating New Routes of Life"

Chaos, if it had a physical form, would be this city. About 100 kilometers away from her peaceful hometown, it stood as a stark contrast to everything she knew. Her new career demanded constant travel, and navigating this urban jungle proved to be quite an experience.

In the initial days, exhaustion was her constant companion. Accustomed to the serene rhythm of her small city and the familiar comfort of her Activa rides to university, the sheer pandemonium here felt overwhelming. She missed the gentle hum of her scooter, the familiar routes from campus to home. The crowded buses and trains were a mind-boggling assault on her senses. Learning the routes was a challenge, a series of wrong turns leading to expensive auto rides and a persistent sense of being utterly lost. Yet, with each wrong turn, she discovered a mini-adventure, a hidden corner of the city she wouldn’t have otherwise seen.

Traveling alone forced her to be more observant and independent. She began to appreciate the small moments, the fleeting beauty of the everyday. She became a silent observer, piecing together fragments of lives unfolding around her. Each person on the bus, on the train, had a story.

One day, she witnessed a poignant scene: an elderly woman, clearly disoriented, boarded the bus, unsure of her destination. She learned that the woman was mentally unstable, abandoned by her children. In that moment, a stranger stepped forward, offering help and guidance. It was a stark reminder that good humans do exist, even amidst the chaos. That moment, she felt a sharp pang of longing for her parents, her little sister, and her best friends.

Especially her best friend from school. They used to travel together, a familiar routine of picking her up and dropping her off after university. She missed those beautiful, simple days. Suddenly, she was thrust into a world where she had to navigate everything alone. Even the smallest tasks felt daunting. But these past few days had taught her so much. She had adapted, and surprisingly, she had started to appreciate the same chaotic city that once overwhelmed her. She found a strange comfort in the rhythm of the trains and buses.

And even when traveling alone, she was discovering that connection was always possible. She had formed bonds with a few colleagues, finding solace in shared experiences. Looking back, she never thought she’d say this, but she began to enjoy the solo travel she initially dreaded. The chaos that once intimidated her now felt like a vibrant energy, and she was excited to see what this city had in store.