The Stress and Pleasure of Not Knowing Where You Are

Not knowing where you are and how to get to where you want to be can be stressful. 

Even in a well-mapped city in the era of smartphones with readily available maps, it’s sometimes hard to know the best way to get from one place to the next. I was once a passenger in a car in which the driver was following audio directions from an online map on a cell phone. The phone was supposed to be tracking the driver’s location, and provided comments like “In 100 feet, turn left.” As we approached the end of a small road along the river, the phone confidently told us to turn left. It was trying to get us to turn directly into the river. 

Unable to tell that we were not on the bridge system overhead but had somehow gotten ourselves onto a little-used access road alongside a river, our up-to-date app-driven big-brother spying phone wanted us dead, or at least embarrassed. 

This is what happens when you explore.

It’s different when taking a walk. You find yourself in a subway system trying to figure out which red line train to get on when they’re both going the same direction and half the stations are closed for construction. You find yourself trying to figure out whether you want to be on the southwest or the northwest corner of an intersection as you struggle against the knowledgeable crowds towards the real world above. 

But the stress of not knowing comes with the pleasure of not knowing. In a new place, the everyday mundane annoyances of a commute, or the predictable walk from A to B, become explorations, and you have to not know to get the full benefits.  

These characters were fun to stumble upon.

Taking a walk in a new neighborhood or city is an experience to savor. Turning a corner and seeing two larger than life mural characters crossing a bright orange background— that’s fun. Turning a corner after walking between tall buildings for blocks and suddenly seeing everything open before you because you’ve reached a bay—that’s a view anyone can enjoy, but it’s a true delight when you have no expectation of the expanse. 

That is a pleasure reserved for those who don’t know quite where they are.