On a very literal, spatial level I can remember this feeling from when I first began to play video games. Specifically, I remember making my way through the levels of Wolfenstein 3D, finishing every level with the nagging sensation that there was a hallway I didn’t fully explore, or a door I had forgotten to open. I credit much of my sense of direction on the spatial awareness I developed while playing this game – a spatial awareness cultivated by a constant fear that I had missed something.

This sensation eventually transferred into other areas of my life. I began wondering whether I was following every path to the very end and exploring every fork along the way. It became infuriating to read a book, because it opened a thousand other avenues of thought which I felt I needed to explore. I couldn’t wrap my mind around Old Testament history when I learned that it was based largely upon earlier Near Eastern traditions. Similarly I couldn’t simply read about Kabbalah without first reading about Rabbinic Judaism. But of course this required an understanding of 2nd Temple Judaism, which required extensive foundational knowledge of Hebrew folklore. And it wasn’t only about origins; each subject involved an infinitely expanding contextual knowledge. To learn anything about Hebrew folklore, I needed to learn more about Canaanite mythology, Hittite mythology, Egyptian history, sacred Indian texts, and a whole host of other topics. Just the idea of researching a subject became daunting and seemingly endless task. I always felt that I had overlooked an enormous amount of material and that I would probably have to start over in order to put everything into the proper perspective.

The most recent manifestation of this neurosis involves one of the issues I’ve been having in mentally processing my trip to Tunisia. I had 10 days to explore an entire country that has developed over the past three or four thousand years. I visited 5 cities and a handful of smaller towns. I get panicked when I think I’ve forgotten to open a secret wall in Doom 3. It hurts my brain to think about all of the things I didn’t see. There are countless things I knew I was missing out on and those probably pale in comparison to the things I don’t even know I missed.

I don’t regret much about our trip through Tunisia. It was an enlightening experience in so many ways that I will most likely never be able to put into words. I understood from the beginning that I would only be able to see a small portion of the country, so I really don’t feel as though we managed our time poorly. There are a few notable exceptions (Damn you, Hotel Amilcar!), but I feel that we experienced more in ten days in Tunisia than I probably will over the next ten months. So I really don’t regret all the roads not taken or the cities not traveled to. But I will always wonder what still lies hidden away, around the last corner of the souq, behind the wall of the medina, over that next sand dune in the Sahara, and down that dark corridor under ancient ruins.