Detours
I used to be really bad at detours.
I mean literal detours—when the road I’m supposed to take is closed, and I have to venture off into the unknown. Even when GPS happened, I still got anxious. Partly, I think, because I hate change and partly because I like to feel like I have some semblance of control. And if I don’t know where I’m going—and therefore, where I’ll end up—my ridiculous brain says panic! Disco not necessary.
Except, recently, I stopped panicking. I’ve had to deal with several unexpected road detours over the past month or so. ’Tis the damn season, I guess? And every time one has happened, I felt weirdly calm. Like, yes, I’ve got this. I vaguely know where this leads. And it’s a charming surprise, honestly. Because the first time it happened, the panic didn’t surface. My anxiety wasn’t rattling my bones like an ancient wooden rollercoaster.
I felt fine. And then I assumed it was a fluke, until it kept happening. I don’t know why or how or what changed. It was silly a quirk of being me, and now it isn’t.
Life is full of detours, isn’t it? Sometimes, they seem insurmountable. Sometimes, they feel like a deadend. But sometimes detours are simply bringing us to a better place. So, when things are a wreck and your heart feels like it is breaking, remember that.
Move in a direction and see what happens. Be open to change, unexpected. Be present in the moment, not fearful of it. The best parts of my life have often caught me totally by surprise. And there’s a particular magick in that.
There are, of course, things in my life right now that I don’t have a handle on. I’m not sure how they will play out. But the truth is, I don’t have to know. I just have to be open and mindful—and myself.
People often remark that it is an act of courage to be who you are in a world that often wishes you to be otherwise. (Emerson? I feel like I just paraphrased him, but I don’t feel like Googling it.) For me, I simply cannot make myself be different. I’m chatty and excitable. I genuinely like and am invested in people. Nothing I do or say is superficial. I’m kind, but I have a mean streak that rears its head occasionally. I’m loyal and steady, and I am unfailingly sincere. I love hard. I care hard. I’m stubborn and verbose and absolutely cranky when I’m hungry. I don’t care about being cool. I measure everything by my own heart. I do not listen to the crowd and never have. (Again: stubborn.) My attention is purposeful and I hope it is a comfort when folks need it.
So often, the shifts in life have nothing to do with you. We’re all juggling a million things. Some of them are on fire. But figuring out which responsibilities are glass and which are plastic is important.
And when a detours arrives unexpectedly, I hope my heart always remains curious. I hope I always remember to take a breath and a beat.