Where am I supposed to find it?

Where am I supposed to find it? 
The roadmap to life?
Is it hidden in some blog post or Instagram story?
Is it in a book long forgotten on my shelf?
Is it in the mirror looking back at me? 

In the reflection that is me but that changes with each day. With gray hairs sprouting on my head.
And new lines adorning my face. Freckles and spots appearing all over my body. Eyes always a deep brown. So brown you can barely make out the pupils.

Is the roadmap inside me?
Or am I creating it as I go?
Is this a paint-by-numbers kinda thing? Or a choose your own adventure story?

I keep searching for the answers.
Self-help books. Podcasts. Other people's opinions.
But they never have the way.
They aren't even on the same path.

We intersect with others, yet alone we must forge. Choosing which forks to take. Which benches to sit upon. When to wave the white flag.

It'd be so much easier with a map. With a clear sign that "this" is the way. This is the next right thing. But all the beauty would fade away.

Because the choice is the beauty.
The ability to change my mind.
To try something new.
To veer into the jungle.
It's all ok if I want to.

And yet that feels selfish to say. Others are affected by all I do or do not do. But this is my road. They get to pave theirs however they choose.
Red bricks.
Yellow cornflowers.
Asphalt.
Rubble.
Lazy rivers.
White carpets.
Mountain air.
Bubbling books.

We all can choose what road to travel. And so the roadmap is within.
It's a heavy feeling. To know that at the end of my life, there will be no one else to blame or praise for the decisions I made.
It's all on me to create the life I want.

But what is that life?
What does it look like?
Am I currently living that life or do I need to course correct?
Is it time to rewrite my story?

That is the ultimate question.
And I am the only one with the pen.