I often feel a lack of meaning in my life—a sense that I am searching for something elusive. In this pursuit, I know I am not alone; many others stand beside me on this same uncertain path.

Walking through the streets, you notice that every house has its place on the map. A phone can plot a route to any point. A blue line will connect your position on the map with the chosen destination, becoming a guiding thread, much like Ariadne’s one. Technology has made our lives easier, more productive, and practical. Yet, for all its wonders, it fails to imbue my existence with purpose. There is no technology capable of inspiring me to embark on this journey along the thread to meet the Minotaur, even if the route has already been charted and the invitation long sent.

But this journey doesn’t have to be one-way. After all, Theseus returned home. Yet, it is a daunting undertaking. It is comparable to the journey of Stephen Dedalus or Leopold Bloom through Dublin— figures who, in their ordinariness, are not so different from us. Like Theseus or Bloom, we are protagonists in our own myths, navigating a landscape both personal and universal.

At times, we recognize that our lives unfold with the grandeur of shared archetypes, stories etched into the human condition. At other times, we tread cautiously, uncertain of where the lines of our histories will lead. Yet in this balance, a truth emerges: we are always walking the thread, always uncovering meaning—even when it feels beyond our grasp.