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“To live without arriving is to learn how to stay.” ~attributed to the Buddha
Throughout most of my life, I believed that reaching a destination was the goal. Like many others, I thought that adulthood would eventually provide a distinct role, a sense of security, and a feeling of belonging that I could confidently claim as, This is it. This is who I am. I believed that if I worked sincerely, pursued what was important, and remained true to my principles, that moment would arrive.
Now, much later on, I’m confronted with the chance that it may never come.
I am aware that I am not alone in this, even if we don’t usually discuss it. Many of us hold an implicit expectation that our efforts will eventually materialize into something identifiable—something stable, comprehensible, and acknowledged. When that doesn’t occur, we often introspect, thinking we may have overlooked something or misinterpreted the rules.
Staying, as I now perceive it, signifies being present without that endpoint. It involves continuing to exist in a life that doesn’t unfold as we anticipated. This essay delves into what it feels like to remain in that space—and why articulating that experience is significant.
There’s a fear I seldom acknowledge, even to myself. It’s not quite the fear of failing, aging, or financial instability, although those are near. It’s the fear of being a source of embarrassment. Not in a public manner. Not dramatically. Quietly. The type that doesn’t create a scene but subtly lingers in family dynamics, unvoiced yet felt.
I occasionally worry that my children perceive me as someone who hinted—perhaps too casually—that everything would sort itself out. That I would find where I belong. That I would reach my destination. I envisioned myself as a father who could indicate something tangible and state, Here. This is where I landed.
Instead, I feel like someone who never quite found a space here.
Much of my adult life unfolded elsewhere—geographically, culturally, creatively. I worked, educated, created, contributed. I had purpose. However, it often existed outside the visible frameworks that grant validation. When I attempted to truly settle into the culture I returned to, I came to a painful realization: I didn’t know how to connect to it, and it didn’t quite know how to accommodate me.
That realization emerged gradually. Through job applications that led nowhere. Through courteous rejections. Through the subtle awkwardness of being asked, “So what do you do?” and realizing that the response no longer fit neatly into a concise answer.
What disturbs me the most isn’t that outcomes didn’t align with my expectations. It’s the anxiety that this absence of arrival might reflect on my children—that they might feel compelled to explain me, or quietly distance themselves, or question whether their father believed in something untrue.
That belief—that honesty, compassion, and significant work would ultimately convert into security and acknowledgment—wasn’t something I created. I inherited it. And I passed it down, trusting it would endure.
Now I’m at a stage where I can question if it ever did.
Growing older sharpens these inquiries. When you’re younger, disappointment feels temporary. There’s still time to change course, to reinvent, to arrive later. As the years advance, the narrative feels less open-ended. You begin to recognize not just what you accomplished but also what you failed to become.
And yet—I’m still here.
Still thinking. Still striving to live authentically. Still waking each day within a life that didn’t offer the clarity I anticipated, but did provide depth, responsibility, and care. Many individuals reach this juncture quietly, without terminology for it, pondering whether they are alone in their reflections.
I don’t view myself as a tragic character. I see myself as someone who didn’t conform to the narrative he believed he was meant to inhabit. Someone who mistook integrity for value. Someone who thought that meaningful work would seamlessly lead to acceptance.
Sometimes, I awaken at night with a humbling realization: What if I misunderstood how the world operates? Not dramatically—but through the gradual acknowledgment that the principles I lived by don’t consistently lead to security or prominence.
This concern doesn’t arise from dishonesty. It arises from dissonance—from the discrepancy between what we’re told holds value and what is genuinely acknowledged. And from wondering how those we cherish will interpret that divide.
There’s a specific loneliness in feeling like an outsider in your own culture. Not exile—just an ongoing sense that the prevailing language never fully landed in your mouth. The language of ambition, certainty, self-promotion. I’ve spent a significant part of my life listening more than stating, striving to align rather than ascend.
That mode of existence has imbued me with meaning. It has also left me vulnerable.
I want to clarify my purpose in writing this.
I’m not presenting a solution or a teaching. I’m identifying an experience many carry silently: living with care and intention yet still not reaching where they envisioned. I’m sharing this because naming it can alleviate the isolation surrounding it. Remaining becomes easier when it feels communal.
I could craft this into a narrative of quiet success. I could smooth out the rough edges and imply that everything culminated satisfactorily in the end. But that would overlook the truth I aim to honor. This is a circular narrative because many lives are circular. Nothing here has been resolved. That’s not a failure—it’s merely honest.
I’m not entirely sure how my children perceive me. This fear may primarily exist within me. But it pertains to something more significant than my family. It highlights how profoundly we equate worth with visibility, success with legitimacy, and care with quantifiable results.
I offered love. I offered attention. I offered presence. I offered values that aren’t easily placed on résumés or retirement plans. Whether that will feel adequate, I have no control over.
What I recognize now is that our culture provides scant language for those who grow older without accolades. There’s no ceremony for silent contributions. Without markers, we begin to doubt our worth.
Buddhist teachings remind us that clinging—to identity, outcomes, or narratives—causes suffering. I comprehend this intellectually. Emotionally, I still desire my life to make sense in ways others can acknowledge. Letting go of that craving isn’t a singular moment of insight. It’s a continuous practice.
Some days I achieve it. Other days, the old fear resurfaces—that I didn’t become what I suggested I would, that the conclusion I expected may never manifest.
What I’m learning to hold alongside that anxiety is this:
A life doesn’t have to conclude to be genuine. A parent doesn’t need to reach a destination to be present. Meaning doesn’t necessitate assurances.
I did not arrive. I may never arrive. But I remained.
I stayed with my loved ones. I stayed with the values that are significant to me. I stayed with work that felt authentic, even when it didn’t bring me rewards. I stayed with myself when it would have been simpler to succumb to bitterness or performance.
To live without arriving isn’t serene. It can be humbling. But it is real.
And if this essay has a purpose, it is simply this: staying matters—even when the conclusion is unknown, even when the narrative doesn’t resolve, even when no one is offering acknowledgment for it.
Sometimes staying isn’t the road to meaning. Sometimes it is the meaning.
About Tony Collins
Edward “Tony” Collins, EdD, MFA, is a documentary filmmaker, writer, educator, and disability advocate living with progressive vision loss from macular degeneration. His work examines presence, caregiving, resilience, and the subtle power of small moments. He is presently completing books on creative scholarship and collaborative documentary filmmaking and shares personal essays about meaning, hope, and disability on Substack.
Connect: substack.com/@iefilm | iefilm.com
**Maintaining Mindfulness in an Unexpected Life Journey**
Life is inherently unpredictable, often leading us down paths we never anticipated. Whether it’s a sudden career change, a health crisis, or a shift in personal relationships, these unexpected journeys can be overwhelming. However, maintaining mindfulness during such times can help us navigate challenges with greater ease and clarity. This article explores the concept of mindfulness and offers practical strategies for cultivating it amidst life’s uncertainties.
### Understanding Mindfulness
Mindfulness is the practice of being present and fully engaged in the moment, without judgment. It involves observing thoughts, feelings, and sensations as they arise, allowing us to respond to situations with awareness rather than reactivity. By fostering mindfulness, we can enhance our emotional resilience, reduce stress, and improve our overall well-being.
### The Importance of Mindfulness in Uncertainty
When faced with unexpected changes, it’s common to experience a range of emotions, including anxiety, fear, and confusion. Mindfulness can serve as a grounding tool, helping us to:
1. **Cultivate Awareness**: By paying attention to our thoughts and feelings, we can better understand our reactions to change and identify patterns that may hinder our progress.
2. **Reduce Stress**: Mindfulness practices, such as meditation and deep breathing, can lower cortisol levels and promote relaxation, making it easier to cope with stressors.
3. **Enhance Decision-Making**: A mindful approach allows for clearer thinking, enabling us to make more informed decisions rather than acting impulsively.
4. **Foster Acceptance**: Embracing the present moment can help us accept our circumstances, reducing resistance and promoting a sense of peace.
### Strategies for Maintaining Mindfulness
1. **Practice Mindful Breathing**: Take a few moments each day to focus on your breath. Inhale deeply through your nose, hold for a moment, and exhale slowly through your mouth. This simple practice can center your thoughts and calm your mind.
2. **Engage in Meditation**: Set aside time for meditation, even if it’s just for five minutes. Guided meditations can be particularly helpful in cultivating mindfulness and can be found in various apps and online platforms.
3. **Incorporate Mindfulness into Daily Activities**: Whether you’re eating, walking, or washing dishes, try to engage fully in the activity. Notice the sensations, smells, and sounds around you, allowing yourself to be present in the moment.
4. **Journaling**: Writing about your thoughts and feelings can provide clarity and insight. Reflect on your experiences and how they make you feel, which can help you process emotions and maintain mindfulness.
5. **Limit Distractions**: In our technology-driven world, distractions abound. Set boundaries around screen time and create a peaceful environment that encourages mindfulness.
6. **Seek Support**: Connecting with others who share similar experiences can foster a sense of community. Consider joining a mindfulness group or attending workshops to learn from others.
7. **Practice Gratitude**: Regularly reflecting on what you’re grateful for can shift your focus from what’s going wrong to what’s going right, enhancing your overall perspective.
### Conclusion
Maintaining mindfulness during an unexpected life journey is not only beneficial but essential for navigating challenges with grace. By incorporating mindfulness practices into your daily routine, you can cultivate resilience, reduce stress, and foster a deeper connection to the present moment. Embrace the journey, and remember that each step, no matter how unexpected, can lead to growth and transformation.
