Would you know how to?

If everything you wanted was given to you today, would you know how to take care of it?

Say you woke up with the body you wanted. Would you know how to eat, train, and rest to maintain it once the initial excitement wore off? Or if you got a beautiful villa by the beach, with big windows, high ceilings, and a pool, would you know how to look after it? I can picture living there quite easily. I have a much less detailed picture of keeping the place running.

And if you found the relationship you wanted, would you know how to care for it? Not just enjoy being loved, but pay attention to the other person, remember how they liked their coffee, and listen when they were telling you something you didn't want to hear.

I like this question because it makes me think beyond getting something. A lot of what we'd like to skip on the way is where we'd learn how to live with it. Being a beginner, getting things wrong, asking for help, and coming back when the excitement has worn off aren't always signs that something isn't for you. Sometimes that's just what learning it feels like.

That doesn't mean every difficulty has a purpose or that you should stay with something that's making you miserable. But I don't think you need to give up on something you care about just because you haven't figured it out yet.

You can just try things

I also don't think caring has to make everything so serious. You can play with a Raspberry Pi or an ESP32 without deciding to become a hardware engineer. My pixel wall started with buying a display because I thought I could build something fun around it. I didn't know exactly what that would be. Curiosity was enough to begin.

You can buy a nice cycle and go for a ride without needing a triathlon to justify it. An Ironman 70.3 is on my list, but every ride doesn't have to be preparation for it. You can want to get faster and still have mornings where the point is to go outside and get breakfast afterwards.

I think it's worth giving things a few honest attempts before deciding they aren't for you, and the first step doesn't need to be very impressive. Instead of trying to decide what you should do with your whole life, you can ask where you could learn to swim, which route you could cycle this weekend, or how to make one small thing work. Those questions give you something to do, and doing it gives you a little more information than thinking about it did.

That's how running became a bigger part of my life. I met two runners on the Kashmir Great Lakes trek who lived near me in Delhi. We started doing Saturday long runs and getting breakfast afterwards, and that routine eventually took me to my first half marathon. I didn't need a plan for every race that would come after it.

An ordinary day still counts

Not every day needs to lead to an achievement either. Before Kanamo, I spent a few days in Old Manali with Chirag, going through cafés and keeping a loose plan for what we'd do after the trek. I wandered up to Manu Temple and joined a volleyball game with people from the village. There was a mountain coming, but those days mattered on their own.

I like having goals, and I like seeing progress. I just don't want to become so occupied with the next thing that I stop enjoying what is already happening. Maybe you recognise that too. A ride can be worth taking even if it doesn't make you faster. A photograph can stay on your phone because you like it. An afternoon doesn't need to produce something you can show people.

At some point, you have to choose

There is another part of this that I find harder: actually choosing something. On a trek, my day is mostly walking, eating, helping around camp, and sleeping. I feel comfortable with that. Back home, it's much easier to keep looking at alternatives and mistake that for moving forward.

Take a relationship. Suppose you meet someone kind, you enjoy being together, and you want compatible things. You could still wonder whether someone slightly better might appear if you waited. But there isn't an end to that question. There will always be people you haven't met, just as there will always be places you haven't lived and things you haven't tried.

I don't mean ignoring real problems or settling for something you don't want. I mean giving something good enough attention to find out what it could become, rather than comparing it with an imagined alternative that hasn't had a chance to disappoint you yet. Trying different things helps you discover what you like, but eventually you have to stay with something long enough to experience it properly.

I don't expect that to feel comfortable all the time. You can enjoy a trip and still miss home, feel tired, or be annoyed by the heat. You can want to do something and still feel embarrassed about being bad at it. I think those feelings are worth noticing without immediately treating them as a reason to leave. Sometimes you need to change something. Sometimes you need dinner and some sleep before making a decision.

So when I ask whether you'd know how to care for what you want, I don't mean you have to become perfectly ready before you deserve it. I mean there are parts you can begin with now, using the time, people, and things already in your life.

You could make a plan to ride instead of spending another evening comparing cycles, or give something you're curious about a few honest attempts. While you're doing that, leave yourself some room to notice whether you actually enjoy it, rather than immediately deciding what it needs to become. That's something I want to keep doing too.