On the road, forward is supposed to be the only direction. The map points ahead, the kilometers add up, and the horizon keeps pulling me further. Forward, forward, forward.
But the truth is… forward doesn’t always look like progress.
Sometimes forward looks like stopping on the roadside because Fjord needs care. Sometimes it’s turning back to the last village for fuel, food, or just a smile from a stranger. Sometimes it’s me — tired, stretched, unsure if I have enough left to keep going.
And those moments used to frustrate me. They felt like losing time, like failing, like being left behind. But slowly, I’ve realized something deeper: pushing harder doesn’t always mean moving forward. Often it’s just resistance disguised as strength.
The road has its own rhythm. The weather shifts without asking, the bike whispers its own needs, and the kindness of strangers changes my direction entirely. I can plan every turn on the map, but in the end, control is an illusion. And when I try to force it, I miss the beauty of what’s right in front of me.
Because forward isn’t speed. Forward isn’t perfection. Forward isn’t control.
Forward is trust. Forward is alignment. Forward is learning to flow with what is, instead of clinging to what should be.
And sometimes, the truest way to move forward is by stepping back. By pausing. By breathing. By listening.
Those pauses — in dusty roadside tea shops, in quiet villages, in the silence of a broken-down engine — are not failures. They are gifts. They’ve carried me further than any forced kilometer ever could.
This is why I’ve started to see my journey differently. It’s not about how far or how fast I go. It’s about the direction I choose — not on the compass, but inside myself.
For me, “east” has become a metaphor. It’s the sunrise. The light. The promise of a new beginning.
Sometimes I ride west. Sometimes north. Sometimes I even turn back home. Borders close, conflicts shift the way forward, and plans collapse overnight. But no matter where the wheels are pointing, I carry “east” within me.
Because riding east isn’t about geography. It’s about choosing to face the sun. To move toward light. To live with trust in the journey, even when the road bends or falls apart.
So I keep reminding myself: Forward is not always straight. Forward is not always fast. Sometimes, the only way forward… is back.
And here’s the upside down perspective. This road I talk about? It’s never just asphalt and dust. It’s always been life itself.
The maps are our plans. The storms are our challenges. The breakdowns are our heartbreaks, our doubts, our moments of exhaustion. The detours are the people who surprise us, the stories that change us, the turns we never planned but somehow needed. And the control we cling to? Just another illusion we eventually learn to let go of.
Moving forward isn’t only about riding across countries with my bike. It’s about living with openness. Facing the sun. Choosing the light. Trusting that every pause, every step back, every unexpected turn is still carrying me toward where I’m meant to be.
Because life, just like the road, always knows the way. If only we let it.
And maybe this is where I turn the question to you: Where in your life are you pushing so hard that maybe a pause would carry you further? What would it look like for you to step back, breathe, and find your own “east” — your own way of facing the light?
“Sometimes stepping back is the most powerful step forward.”
Stories from the Upside Down World Simona Firondahttps://www.instagram.com/simonafironda?igsh=Ym82YWFxMXd4YTZl&utm_source=qr