I recently got lost on the Back Road in Madrid, New Mexico. Near midnight and pitch black, I sort of knew the way… But wished I’d took down my friend’s landline when he offered it, because now the only option was to stop, and breathe, and wait—for some sort of a feeling or sign, to try a new direction.
Walking the pup I was sitting for next morning past the very point I was disoriented the night before, made me laugh out loud. There was a tree that forks the road, and a simple veer to the right, not left, connected me home.
Such is life, huh? The panic of losing our center can be replaced by a pause, and slight step to the side to find your way, again. Maybe we should get lost more. Just to remind us—we’re never really far from home.