Level One

You land in a place you’ve never been before. The air smells wrong, or maybe it smells better. You can’t tell yet. Your bag’s heavier than you thought. Your phone’s at 9%. You don’t know the language. You don’t know the streets. You don’t know where the hell the bus stop is.

Nobody here knows you. Nobody cares.

This is Level One. No saves. No cheat codes. Just you, standing there, deciding whether to take the first step or freeze. And here’s the truth, you’re supposed to feel lost. That’s the point.

It’s a weird thing, walking away from the you that’s been living your life up until now. Like peeling off a skin that doesn’t fit anymore. You leave it in a heap behind you and walk out into the world wearing nothing but your newness. First time you do it, it’s a rush. Like your first tattoo. And just like tattoos, one’s never enough.

You learn quick: you can’t really step into a new place unless you’re ready to burn the map and start from zero. Everything you knew back home? Worthless here. Your clever shortcuts, your go-to bars, your Sunday routines, they don’t translate. Most people hate that. They clutch at what’s familiar like it’s a life raft. Me? I think it’s the point.

There’s that line, something about how if you don’t read, you only live one life, but if you do, you live a hundred. And Gandalf, the old bastard, nailed it: the world’s not in your books and maps. It’s out there. Those two together? That’s gospel.

Every border is a clean slate. A bed you’ve never slept in, air that smells like something you can’t name yet, a language that makes you feel like a child when you try to speak it. You get to decide who you are all over again. Nobody knows your story here. No one cares.

So tell me, what’s going to stop you?

The Art of Being Lost

Nobody prepares you for your 20s. They tell you it’s the best time of your life, but they forget to mention the part where you’re broke, confused, and completely winging it. It took me a while to come up with a line that would blow you away and capture you to keep reading. I came up empty, as you can see. I began, started overthinking, asked friends for help, and landed where you’re witnessing now—there isn’t a good way to start this. This is also how I would describe being in your 20s. A lot of overthinking, asking friends for help, and coming to the conclusion that there isn’t a good way to live this part of your life. So, if there isn’t a right way to live your 20s, why not live it all the wrong ways instead? Hell, there might even be an art to it.

To give you some context as to how my 20s have gone so far, I’ll give you a quick recap. From the moment the borders opened again during COVID-19, I got my vaccinations. I left my hometown in the Netherlands to go explore the world and see what’s out there. I lived in a couple of countries working as a bartender, met some incredible people along the way, made some questionable decisions, and learned that I am the absolute worst with money.

The last one is an understatement. I can’t even remember the number of times I’ve been on the verge of homelessness, feeling like a failure who just got lucky the first time. Or the number of times I had only a few euros in my account while in a foreign country. I would impulsively quit a job, like working at a resort in Greece only to quit after four days because the bar violated every health code known to man. To pursue other jobs or release myself from the bonds of boredom. As you can imagine, this doesn’t do wonders for your mental health, leaving me in a state of stress and questions I didn’t have the answer to. I’m only 25, but in those years, it’s safe to say, I felt lost.

Having said all that, it’s been an absolute blast. Granted, I’m a glutton for punishment. Being a bartender living the life I’ve been living, working long hours, and drinking during most of the shifts. I, and many others, are surprised I’m still alive and kicking.

But, because of this, I was able to live in amazing cities like Paris and Hanoi, and meet some crazy and amazing people that I still consider friends to this day. I was able to get some unreal opportunities that I would’ve never gotten otherwise, like moving to Iceland and spending eight months in the middle of nowhere. I’ve slept in airports, taken countless time-consuming FlixBus’s to save money, got into some weird relationships, and had embarrassing calls with my dad after 3 years of not speaking. But, it was all worth it.

I’ll dive deeper into everything along the way, but hopefully this’ll give you a decent impression of what my life has been like so far. More importantly, what it’ll most likely still be in the near future. I didn’t make the right decisions, and I didn’t think through most of the things I was doing. Honestly, I still don’t. But what do people always say? Your 20s are for making mistakes and learning lessons, right?

As I said from the start, there must be an art to all of this, an art to being lost. Having met a lot of people all over the world, I know for a fact that I’m not the only one. There’s a bunch of us out there, wandering this planet, waiting for lightning to strike us, giving us some grand answer about our life’s purpose. If we’re all lost anyway, we might as well make it worthwhile, no?