The Art of Being Lost

For most of my life I haven't spent a lot of time being lost. I lived in the city where I was born until after college, and I always knew where I was. It wasn't until I moved to Madison that I discovered the art of being lost.

I spent a lot of time being lost in Madison. I'm not particularly good with spatial relations and directional things, so quite often I went off track. It was in Madison that I realized that being lost is by no means a bad thing. I found some very cool things while I was lost, and in Wisconsin you know there's always a good chance you might find a Culver's. Often, I would stop for a butterburger and regroup before continuing. Navigating one's way out of being lost also instills great confidence in one's abilities. You shouldn't be afraid to keep driving until you see something you think you recognize. (Note: it doesn't have to be something that you actually do recognize. You just have to go with your gut and rely on hunches.)

Given the amount of time that I spent being lost in Madison, you would think that I would have spent a fair amount of time being lost in Minneapolis. True, the first time I drove here from Madison I frantically called Pete from the road and told him that I didn't know where I'd gone wrong, but I was somehow right by the capitol. However, after that I have always had Pete to rely on for directions. I know my basic roads, and I pretty much stick to them.

This afternoon I was somewhat delighted to find myself lost in South Minneapolis. I was trying an experimental route, and it went awry. I saw some gorgeous houses, some businesses I never knew where there, and I got to remember why I kind of liked getting lost in the first place.