Curiosity as a Compass

I have always belonged to wandering.

To rainy sidewalks and unfamiliar streets.
To little bookstores and late cups of coffee.
To the glow of city lights reflecting against wet pavement.
To the quiet thrill of realizing there is still so much left to see.

Even as a little girl, I loved wandering through record stores, flipping slowly through vinyl sleeves while entire worlds played softly through overhead speakers. I loved the feeling of discovering something unexpected. A song. A cover. A voice that somehow felt like it already knew me.

Maybe that is why I still move through life the same way now. Curious. Looking closely. Letting small moments become part of me.

I think some people are meant to move through the world collecting wonder wherever they find it. Not in grand gestures, but in fragments. Music. Conversations. Bookstores. Neon lights reflecting onto wet pavement. The smell of old paper and coffee and rain.

A life filled with movement, curiosity, and small adventures has always felt the most like me.

And maybe that has always been the compass.