My Personal Journey Essay -- Personal Narrative Writing

Journeys are moments in life that define and reconstruct the myths we ca-ca about ourselves and others. All too often the ideals of a biased community or select group are viewed as the model by which each(prenominal) individuals must follow. To escape the pressures of a collective standard a person must travel outside the constraints of a community and discover his or her give birth true identity. On such a journey one can expect moments of planned reflection or unexpected instances of revelation. A journey is all minute of my existence, as I travel through life and try to ascertain my own presence in its cycle. An essential journey occurred three geezerhood ago when I set out on a personal pilgrimage. I wanted to re-travel the time line of the past few years and make up the point where I had allowed the influence of others to determine my own c oncept of self. Self is non necessarily complex or intricate, but it does define the character of a person and how he or she wants to be viewed. In my own rush to fit in at college I had disregarded what I needed and complacently accepted the definitions of others. I expended my energy trying to model myself according to the contemplation of my peers, all the while ignoring principles which I felt were inherent to my survival. Once the missing skin perceptiveness of singularity is discovered, an individual must set out upon a journey and reconstruct the notions of self and identity. Understanding my own needs, I decided to embark on a solo expedition into the woods of Maine. The solo was an opportunity to disassociate myself from everything that I considered comfortable and safe. For two nights the only person I encountered was myself. After several(prenominal) days of paddling, my guide and I neared the island where... ...d in an unknown surrounding and somehow I had become part of it. I welcomed the crash of an animal over my dwell or the presence of the sand fleas. I journeyed into their environment a forei gner, and even in my most vulnerable stages of sleep, I had become an accepted presence. While on my solo I wrote a letter to myself. In the letter I revealed what I had learned and what it meant to realize my own strength and will in those few days of solitude. I gave the letter to my guide and asked him to send it to me in a year. I remember the day the letter came. At first I did not recognize the faded words on the envelope, but as soon as I glanced at the return address I knew that they were my own. I once again sought solitude. In a small corner of my familys flower garden I opened the letter and began telling. The first words I read were remember the Medicine Wheel.