There is usually one thing you keep going back to. The instrument you picked up again at thirty. The person you should have been over by now. The work you swore you would stop taking on and took on anyway, because somebody asked and you wanted to.
It shows up in the ordinary stuff too. The recipe you keep attempting. The city you keep looking up flights to at midnight. The idea you have abandoned four times and still think about on the drive home.
We tend to treat that pull as a character flaw, something to be managed or outgrown. But the thing you circle back to is telling you something useful. You do not keep returning to what you are indifferent about. The pull is the map, even when it points somewhere inconvenient.
The trick is not to stop being drawn to things. It is to know the difference between the fire that will warm you and the one that will not, and that judgment only comes from having been close enough to a few of them to tell.
So go toward it. Carefully, with your eyes open, but go.
