the lost art of becoming

this story isn’t about being lost. It’s about becoming. the kind of becoming that starts when staying the same is no longer an option

I remember taking myself out to eat at a bad fast food restaurant after a late night shift, absolutely exhausted. I had to be at work 7 hours later, but I couldn’t bring myself to take the metro home, shower then sleep.

I had too much on my mind.

Something had been calling me. For years now.

adventure

freedom

the urge to explore

And I couldn’t bring myself to deny it any longer

Life had gotten in the way, but this feeling was now too urgent. An almost visceral, gut wrenching feeling begging for change, and I was losing my mind over it

I sat down, my phone almost out of battery. I ordered a durum falafel and a beer. Yeah, I think that was needed

I didn’t know where to start

I knew I wanted to go to Italy, and that my dog was coming with me. I knew I had to be on a budget, and to travel without a car, but not by plane because my dog can’t do airplanes.

Above all, I knew I needed peace of mind. I needed clarity. An unknown space to grow into the person that was screaming to come out. And that was being forced into the confines of my current life in Brussels.

That’s exactly the feeling I had. Trying to fit into an impossibly small shoe

I needed clarity to tap into my inner self.

I needed clarity to process all that had happened in this very transformative past year, where I quit everything to pursue my passion for cooking.

I’d had an epiphany June 2024. There’s truly no other word. During a workshop that was supposed to help me network and get into the EU bubble in Brussels, I realized while completing a self development exercise that all my answers aligned with cooking, freedom, and creativity. All far, far from what I’d been pursuing relentlessly for 2 years. It suddenly appeared so clearly to me. I wanted to be around food everyday, curate private dinners, connect authentically and creatively with people, and sharpen my cooking skills. I wanted to explore that part of me.

I stopped right in my tracks, signed up for a chef competition, started sharing cooking videos on social media and took a job as a chef in a cool restaurant.

It was all very exciting, but I was starting to realise that I had made some decisions out of logic and fear, and not out of my heart and intuition.

My food arrives. Bland and dry. My beer comes too. Fresh and tasty.

My job as a chef in a restaurant that I’d taken a couple of months prior was eating me alive, but that was only a repercussion of other things.

I’d outgrown my life. It was as simple as that

I’d made choices, in line with my priorities, that made me stay in a constant state of waiting. Waiting for the moment I’d finally be able to live my life how I wanted to.

I had a pattern of creating and staying in situations that I didn’t love because I believed they were serving my future goals, even if you can never be sure about that. That kept me in a loop of never being able to live the present moment, because I was never aligned with my present life, that was supposedly serving my future.

I needed space. Space to become and create who I was becoming. space to welcome the uncertainty of the future with excitement.

So, that night. at that table. in this late night fast food place.

with bright white led lights, greasy walls and loud radio playing through the gresillant speakers, I made a decision. I needed to follow that little fire inside of my heart, and follow that warmth that tells me that I’m doing something right for myself.

I started searching on my phone. I looked up if travelling through Italy by train was realistic. If others had done it, and if they’d shared itineraries. How much it would cost. Is it dog friendly? And so on

I didn’t listen to that little voice murmuring “what are you going to do over there??? You’re 26, you should have your life together by now! Why spend all that money if you’re not going to be productive? Why, why why?”

because I wanted to. Because I needed to.

And that was enough.

My phone shut off. I finished my beer in silence, leaving half of the food untouched. I felt scared, but at peace. There was no doubt in my heart at that moment, although it would come later on in vulnerable moments.

I was in a trance like state for a couple of days, not telling anyone about my plans. I felt liberated. That was my little secret, my dream garden, and I could visit it whenever I needed a break.

it was November anyways. I didn’t plan to go before a couple of months, when the weather got better. And, I needed to save up now. And I finally knew what I was saving up for. I was free from my imaginary shackles. There wouldn’t be long before I’d finally be living in the present. Although, I could already feel a shift : my mind, body and soul felt more aligned.

We don’t talk enough about the quiet, in between moments that shape us. the ones that don’t look like milestones from the outside, but that become pivot points.

the world pushes us to know who we are, to have a plan, to stay productive. But becoming? becoming takes stillness. confusion. discomfort. space.

so, in a world that moves so fast, the art of becoming is often lost.

and in that quiet space. where all things are uncertain. I finally made peace with trusting the flow of it all