I kept moving long enough that I forgot to ask if it still felt true

Dear Delyara, That sentence feels painfully accurate right now. I kept moving. Life kept moving. And somewhere in all that movement, I stopped checking in honestly enough with whether the direction still felt true inside me. There was no big collapse. No dramatic wrong turn. Just continuation. And then one day, a quieter question: who chose this version of the path? And when? I don’t think loss of direction always looks like chaos. Sometimes it looks like a very organized life that no longer feels internally lit.