Dead End

I take the same route on my walk just about every day. I know it’s the safer street with less traffic, it’s nice flat land, and I have it timed out so I know exactly what gap in my day I can fit it in.  It is predictable. There is the same yippy dog that screeches at me, the same neighbors in their yard, and the same cul-de-sac I turn around in that tells me I’m halfway done.  Most days I feel proud of my little controlled path.  And then one day I realized I pass a DEAD END sign every day. 

This wasn’t just a real street sign to me.  It was a life sign.  Every day I’m on a dead end.  I know exactly how it is going to go, because I do my best to keep it that way.  But then I have to turn around and go back, and my perfectly controlled "walk" doesn’t lend itself to any surprise, mystery, or exploration.  As I’ve mentioned in previous posts, I am making it a writing habit not to shame myself when I have these discoveries.  I am using it for my good. I am waking up and learning.  I know this precise trail has been my constant in the middle of chaotic schedules and uncertain life stressors. So, I’m actually really proud of myself for finding a rhythm that worked in the middle of disorder.  And on this particular day, I wanted a new way.  I realized there are things in my life at a dead end, and if I want a new way, I have to face a new path.

I took off down a road in my neighborhood that everyone says not to take because “so many cars speed and can’t see you.” That sounded scary enough, so I was in. At first the hill I was climbing was brutal. I was already hating this road.   And then I realized I was on top of the hill.  I made it, and it wasn’t that hard.  So I kept going into the unknown.

I passed a yard with a dog who must have some kind of anti-bark device on her. She barked at me, but it was just muffled. I felt sad she had no voice.  I’m sure someone didn’t like her bark, and maybe she scared people, but I found myself angry that she had been silenced.  I discovered a little bit of myself in her, and I was thankful to have witnessed her struggle.  I told her I was sorry for her loss and to keep on trying to speak anyway, and on I walked.

As I rounded the corner, there it was. A beautiful scene of a quiet curvy road surrounded by the trees touched by Autumn and a bit of sunshine poking through them. The light was there just for me – I’m sure of it.  I felt the cool breeze on my face and felt thankful that even on a scary new path there is light to guide me and hope to lean into.

As I made my way back, new neighborly faces nodded at me. I saw a home under construction, and it felt like my heart. I identified with the pain of my insides being exposed but the promise of new shelter and warmth.  I could feel the hurt of the brokenness and the hope for fresh joy all at the same time.  I took a deep breath and found my way back home. Even scary paths lead home.

I needed to try this new way.  The dead end wasn’t life giving anymore. I’m sure I’ll take that dead end road on days when I need certainty and a little flat land.  But the beauty is that even on my new path I know a few things to expect – discovery, pain, joy, hope, and the promise of Light. 

~What dead end road are you walking?

~How has it served you?

~How does it no longer serve you?

~What keeps you from trying a new road?

~After you’ve tried a new road, what did you experience? What gifts did it have?