Where Should I Go Today?
If you are like me, you feel there is something special about trips when you have some room to make it up as you go along. There is something about the open road that fills me with a sense of wonder and gratitude. Travel presents an opportunity.
I have been thinking about this because I recently returned from a trip to Europe. On the trip, I tried to find the perfect balance between necessary travel structure and opportunities for spontaneity. There were times when those chances for spontaneity paid off with wonderful discoveries. Some highlights included finding an off-the-beaten-path beach cove with crystal blue water and stumbling upon a restaurant that was serving a seven-course lunch for 26 euros.
The choices we make on the road can reveal something about us, including our current needs. Some people might need a thrill to remind them what excitement looks like, while others may need relaxation to remind them that it is okay to rest. Travel made me answer the question, "What do I want?" over and over. At home, my routine often answers it before I get the chance.
By the end of my trip, I actually found myself craving routine. After weeks of deciding where to go, what to see, and what to do next, I was ready for the comfort of knowing what tomorrow would look like.
I think that’s why autopilot can feel so appealing. Of course, routine can be wonderful. Stability is important. We need habits that allow us to move through everyday life without consciously deciding every little thing. The problem comes when we become so accustomed to letting life run itself that we stop checking whether we're still comfortable with the direction we're heading.
Maybe you know the feeling. You wake up, go to work, answer emails, make dinner, scroll for a while, go to bed, and do it again. Nothing is necessarily wrong. But somewhere along the way, you stopped asking whether this is actually the life you want to be living.
It is so easy to stop checking in on yourself. We usually get rewarded for being productive, and no one asks questions when everything gets done. So the more we lean on autopilot, the better we become at doing all the things that need to be done. And we think everything is good because all the boxes are being checked.
Meanwhile, parts of ourselves can become exhausted, resentful, or afraid. Sometimes these feelings build so gradually that we don't notice them until they become impossible to ignore. Often, these parts are trying to protect us in ways we may not fully understand. Uncomfortable emotions aren't necessarily the enemy. They are part of our internal experience, and they can provide valuable information about what needs our attention.
For example, maybe the part of you that has been short with your loved ones isn’t the problem. It might be trying to protect you from complete exhaustion.
Or maybe the part that wants to start a new career isn't necessarily telling you the whole story either. It might be trying to protect you from feeling undervalued.
The part that keeps procrastinating might be trying to give you relief from pressure that has become overwhelming.
Instead of immediately obeying one part or silencing another, you can begin approaching these parts with curiosity and compassion. Internal Family Systems (IFS) is a therapeutic approach that helps us better understand our inner world and the different parts of ourselves. Rather than judging or trying to change these parts, IFS encourages us to listen to them and better understand what they need. Even the parts we struggle with often have good intentions, though the ways they try to help us may not always be helpful.
It is like re-centering true north on your compass. Instead of continuing to let autopilot chart your course, you learn to listen to your parts without allowing any one part to take over the direction of your life. From a place of greater clarity and calm, you can intentionally choose how you respond.
Here is the best part: we do not need to book a flight to check in with all the different things going on inside of us. We just need time and intention.
Even when we are not traveling, everyday life presents us with opportunities. In every sunrise and in every breath, we have a choice in how we are going to respond next. The difference is that in everyday life, we mostly let this question pass us by without much thought.
When trying to check in with myself, my process always involves slowing down in an intentional way. At the very least, I take a couple of deep breaths. I’ll put my hand over my heart. Then I notice how I feel in the present moment. I usually ask myself questions like...
What would feel restorative right now?
Is this something I genuinely want, or something I have become used to wanting?
What am I noticing in my body when I consider this decision?
What part of me feels the most overwhelmed? What might it be trying to protect me from, and what does it need?
When I give myself some space from my thoughts, feelings, and bodily sensations, what actually matters most to me in this situation?
After checking in like this, I often don’t make any drastic changes. Sometimes the change we need is not a different decision, but a different relationship with the decision we are already making. I might make changes if I need to, but what matters to me tends to become clearer after giving it some time to speak.
On the road, “Where should I go today?” was something I asked myself without thinking. Back home, it is easy to forget that the question is still available to us. It does not take a trip to be on a journey.
Maybe just a few deep breaths and some gentle reflection. You may end up at the same job and the same dinner table. But you'll be there on purpose, and sometimes that's the difference between a routine and a journey you're glad you're on.
Written By: Joe Takayoshi, MA, LMHCA