Look to your left, Hilda! Out of the corner of my eye I could see the Pacific Ocean spread out below us as we drove along Highway 1 in the dark. And then I thought, hmmm, that's funny, I don’t remember seeing the ocean on the way up here. And then I said it out loud. And then Hilda and I both laughed as I pulled over to look at a map.
There’s a certain magic in being lost. Out of seemingly nowhere roads appear, signs arise, directions are given or kind people show up to offer guidance or support. So often I’ve doubted this magic - this not knowing what’s going to happen and fear of losing control.
But who am I kidding? When have I ever had complete control over a situation? And, more importantly, was I having any fun at all, trying to control something or someone? (Um, no…)
For much of my life I’ve assumed being lost meant I had done something wrong or made a mistake. Being lost can be frightening, no doubt. Especially when driving along the edge of a cliff. But being lost also means that maybe I get to spend a little extra time with a dear friend or discover an unexpected view of the ocean.
That, is a lot of fun.
(What I'm listening to right now: Labrinth - Let It Be)