We glide down a long twisting road under the thick leafy branches of ancient maples, through the fallen leaves and under pools of yellow streetlight. We turn down another road, and then another, always gliding swiftly down, until we are finally lost – so turned around we don’t know east from west.

There is a moment of pleasant uncertainty.

In the city you are lost and in that moment you wonder if you might have stepped into another city and if the familiar roads and buildings are gone forever.

Or so you hope—you hope that this is another portal into Edgeland, where everything is sort of different and into which you will embark on a series of incredible adventures with strange people and creatures and things.

It is possible that this is a true zen moment, to be studied in a detached way. There may be a time when I cannot get lost in this city, and perhaps I will have to find another city to explore. In the meantime, if I loose my way, is it possible I will find another? Perhaps there is a better destination than the one I was intent on.

There are many perspectives from which you can view a thing. If I loose perspective, will I gain another? I cling to my beliefs like any man. If I loose my beliefs will I gain others?

If I loose my grip on reality, will I gain another?

There is a gulf you must cross in order to change one set of beliefs for another – in which you have to set aside old beliefs before you can pick up new ones. In that time, you are without belief – you have stepped into a gulf and in that period of crossing, you are stepping away from your old foundation and have yet to stand on new foundations.

Being lost is loosing perspective. It is a state of being unable to fit the thing you are focusing on into the familiar surroundings. It is not a way to gain perspective, but it is a first step along the way. First you have to let go of the old to grasp the new. Getting lost is a step toward finding a new way, as loosing perspective is a step toward gaining a new one, and loosing your beliefs a step toward finding new ones.

So to the curious mind, getting lost provides a moment full of potential. It is a thing to celebrate – assuming there is something on the other side, something you are moving towards. It would be unpleasant to get lost, loose perspective and beliefs, and never find anything to replace them.

You hope that each new perspective, each new set of beliefs contributes cumulative knowledge and ultimately wisdom. You hope that in time you will have explored enough and learned enough to have acquired the best perspective and the best beliefs. You hope that through getting lost you will someday find the best destination, the best location.

And yet….

Changing perspective is like exploring the city. A changed perspective is when I ride to another part of the city and stop there, and look around. Changing perpective is riding. A changed perspective is when I stop.

I prefer riding to stopping.

Does my continuous motion reflect an underlying mission to keep changing perspective – to perpetually look for new ways to perceive myself and the things around me? Am I seeking knowledge or change?

Am I learning or am I simply chewing through the scenery restlessly looking for some simple, cheap entertainment?

An orange glow in the sky suggests the city is that way, and a girl passing by points out our way to us. She does not suggest an alternative. She does not ask to come with us, she does not alter my perspective or change my beliefs. We will never find Edgeland asking directions.