Ultimately we are just migrating birds


… We just don’t know where to migrate to.

We know we want more, we have goals, we are ambitious. It’s hard when people question you… what do you want to do in life?

You’re literally asking me the world. I constantly feel like I know what I’m doing and where I’m going, then life does the equivalent of taking me to five guys and telling me I can mix coke with fanta.

Do I want coke, do I want fanta or do I want a mix? Frankly this particular example is pretty disgusting and just makes me want a five guys, but what I’m trying to pose is that we have options, then options on top of options, or a fusion of all of the above.

Look at your friendship group, who will you see on a regular basis 10 years from now? Who will of moved to Brussels on a mission of self discovery? Who will be drowning in children, or oconstantly trying to prove how happy their marriage is by telling you about a brunch with lashings of avocado they shared?

I often ask myself these questions, and I guess the beauty of your future is that it is the future, the unforseeable, the omniously unknown, but you yourself have control of yours. Not your mate who has gone globetrotting, or the prematurely marital status folk. You.

Speaking personally and I’m not saying anything earth shattering here and I’d imagine lots feel the same but lots of my pals have moved away from our home hub, I hail from middle class central Bishop’s Stortford, I could tell you excessively about the apparent national outbreak of coffee shops and charity shops that Stortford is accomadating but that could be a whole other blog post (you lucky people) and I have a very nice gaggle of pals who are from just here. As we became older, and aquired bits of paper which meant people started to take us seriously one by one they’ve moved to areas such as Yorkshire and the like. This is a natural move of course, you’re bettering your career and in turn yourself. Your eyes are open, You loose vulnerability and gain some savvy.

Listen to me preach, I move 30 miles down the road (I live in south London) and I’ve become a strange mix of Alain de Botton and Micheal Palin, but I think physical moves and leaving your comfort zones are incredibly healthy.

I guess the point I’m getting at is… When do you know it’s time to stop migrating? When do you find fulfilment and professional happiness? Humans always want more, we’re annoying like that.

Just to to take any credibility away from this little thought, this is coming to you live from a National Express coach. Yes I’m too tight to pay for a bus, don’t judge me.

What better way to end this than with a pretentious quote?

  

Ok bye.

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