No Dead Ends

While recently driving solo in an unfamiliar state, I made some mistakes.  The terrain was comprised of prominent hilly mounds and the roads went around these in confusing patterns, making it difficult for me to navigate from memory and a map.  Adding to my mix of emotions was the heavy traffic and occasional roadblocks due to construction.  I needed to know where I was going, but I had never been there before.  Thankfully, I had an address and a GPS.

I use the GPS with the volume turned off.  A glance shows what to expect at the next turn and what should lead up to it.  When I misunderstand the directions, there is no berating or blame:  a new route is simply recalculated and I am soon on track again.  This instrument reminds me that, no matter how far off I get, there are no Dead Ends; until I arrive at my destination, I am en route and am still working on it.  Instead of a Dead End, every place in between me and my goal is a Living Middle.

At one point, during rush hour, I happily made an easy right turn at a place where three lanes of left-turning traffic were crowding to merge into one lane during a short light.  A few seconds down the road, I realized why I was the sole driver on my side of the train tracks:  the previous intersection was the only nearby crossing and I had missed it!

Instead of its normal, no-big-deal, recalculation response, the GPS flashed the instruction to "TURN AROUND."  It only took a few moments to decide how to obey.  I was soon on the right track, with a better idea of how and why the roads were organized the way they are.  This was understanding that I could use when traveling that way later.

Did the experience hurt me?  Not at all:  I made it to my destination safely, with plenty of time to spare.  Frankly, I saw a lot of scenery on the trip, but I remember the picture of that particular part of the road very clearly; those surroundings gained a greater significance than most of the places I was merely passing through, on the way to Someplace Else.  Turning around actually helped me to take stock of the situation better and to recognize more fully my reliance on and gratitude for the directions. 

As I have pondered on this experience, I have considered how I travel through life, along with the ways I may tend to view wrong turns, detours or instructions to turn around.

I had business to take care of, but I was focused on enjoying the trip.  This was easier to keep in mind because I was there to serve my husband.  I expected to be traversing unfamiliar territory, so I allowed extra time to accommodate unexpected issues -- which is something that I often neglect when I am dashing about at home. The fact is that today's home territory may actually be new and unfamiliar; tootling along may help a person arrive quickly, but focusing on passing through the next intersection may cause a traveler to miss important understanding of the journey.

What happens when we misunderstand the directions for our lives and make wrong turns?  Do we feel judged and humiliated, or do we patiently accept the recalculated route?  If we have to turn around, does that mean we are failures, or do we see this as an opportunity to understand the journey -- and ourselves -- even better?  Do we feel upset at or thankful for the directions?

I have noticed that sometimes the slight delay or the recalculated route puts me in the perfect spot to enjoy a beautiful vista or to avoid disaster.  Naturally, I do not see every averted problem, but sometimes I have received a reminder that proximate annoyances may be blessings in disguise.  I recall one day when a companion and I were running late.  About halfway to our destination, we reached an intersection where we were the second car waiting to turn left onto a country highway.  As the car in front of us made its move, another vehicle crashed into it from the other direction, promptly sobering us with the thought that our morning's irritations (dropped toothpaste lids and delays at stop signs) might have spared us from having the accident ourselves. 

Until we reach our destination, we are in the middle.  And as long as we keep moving, it's a living journey to enjoy.

There really are no Dead Ends.  Just Living Middles.

Photos from sxc.hu.