tracks

Sometimes we think we're going the right direction – the tracks are laid and gleaming, polished and smooth, and our momentum builds on the straightaway of our sure-we're-sure thoughts. It's so easy, so tempting, to believe we're in control, and sometimes we're willing to pay the price of that false ticket when our lives aren't adding up the way we'd like.

The thing is, there are all kinds of roads we can take. Some lead to far outposts, interesting places to visit but far away from home. Some lead into tangled thickets of lessons we've already learned, a trip to the past that can be a very long detour. Some are joyrides, where we get to leave the map behind and just enjoy the adventure. And some are the routes we think we're expected to take, the ones laid out for us because they look good on paper.

While in some ways I believe there really are no "right" choices, I do believe there is a right track to follow. It's the one that rises up to meet us when we stop consuming and reacting to all the scattered stimuli around us and start listening to the deep hum of our own souls. It's the one that's really waiting for us to see it, the one that won't interrupt, that refuses to be flashy, that will patiently stand its ground until we've exhausted ourselves misreading signs and traveling in circles. When we've flailed long enough to become truly tired of the trip, that road will begin to shine just a little more brightly. And if we're brave enough to really stop trying to control the destination, and with a deep breath, let that hidden, perfect road show itself to us - that may be when we're finally ready for the ride of our lives.