Wayfinding and Sensemaking, Part One.

This is me at 12 or 13. Middle-school-aged me.


I barely spoke, back then, except to one close friend, and to my brother. Interacting with others or being in the world was like watching some kind of confusing, complicated show from behind thick glass. I faked it as best I could, but I felt like I was acting. I felt bewildered a lot of the time.

The word ‘bewildered’ is interesting: “be” + “wildered.” Lost somewhere in the wild.

The irony, there, is that I loved the woods behind our house in Connecticut. I felt safe in the wild, where I knew the locations of the trees and the little frog pond. I’d venture out with pockets of snacks and a good book, and pretend I didn’t ever have to come back.

But… things were about to get complicated. Because I was, well, 12 or 13. You know how THAT goes.

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