Why We're Going

People ask why. They mean it kindly, mostly. Sometimes there's a note of concern. Sometimes it's barely concealed envy. Occasionally it's genuine bafflement — the kind that comes from someone who has found what they want and genuinely can't imagine wanting something else.

The honest answer is harder to give than it sounds.

It's not because I need to find myself. I'm not lost, not in any interesting way. It's not because I'm running away. I'm not particularly running toward anything either. It's something quieter than that.

I think it's this: I want to spend four years doing something that is genuinely, unmistakably real. Real in the way that only things with consequence are real. The ocean doesn't pretend. A badly made decision at sea has outcomes. You learn quickly what matters and what doesn't.

That's the whole thing, really. I want four years of things that matter.