Keep Going

Lately, the noise is just overwhelming.

From the mailers stuffed in our mailboxes to the bobbleheads on TV,

it feels like everyone’s yelling—

telling us we’ve gone the wrong way,

and that they’ve got the only real map to get us back on track.

But those maps? They’re not exactly honest. They’re built to get us to a very specific place, in a very specific way

and not usually for our benefit.

They're drawn to protect the people who made them. To keep power where it’s always been.

They highlight the roads they want us to take, and leave out the ones that might lead us to something freer, wilder, more true.

They don’t want us wandering into places they’ve worked hard to keep hidden.

Sometimes a tyrant scribbles a new name over an old place with a crayon,

hoping if he says it loud enough,

we’ll forget what it used to be.

It’s not about keeping us safe. It’s about keeping their version of the story intact.

And if we start asking questions, if we start imagining something else—

that story starts to fall apart.

But we don’t have to stay inside the lines they drew.

We’re capable of discovery.

In fact, we're built for it.

We know how to see the land for what it really is— not what we’ve been told to believe.

Because the terrain?

It doesn’t lie.

If the bridge is out, no voice from your phone—no matter how confident— should convince you to drive across it.

Trust your eyes. Trust your instincts.

They’ll tell you what’s real.

Progress doesn’t start with knowing the answers.

It starts with wondering what’s over the next ridge, and being willing to go see for yourself.

Reading the map is useful.

But so is knowing when to fold it up,

toss it in your pack, and start carving your own trail.

And yeah—you might hit a dead end.

You might have to push through thick brush or backtrack a little.

But keep going.

That’s where the good stuff lives.

Not comfort—

but adventure.

Discovery.

A life shaped by what’s real, not just what’s handed down.

So if the path feels unfamiliar,

and the signs don’t make much sense,

and the voices are just quiet enough to let you think, you might not be lost.

You might just be standing in a place

no one’s been brave enough to discover yet.

Keep going.