Everyone who knows me, knows I am “directionally challenged”. It’s is perhaps, apart from the well documented freak show of my mental stability, one of my most infamous traits. I’ve gotten lost so many times I decided to reclaim this as a positive and have called it instead: “finding places I didn’t start out looking for”. It’s cheery and risky at the same time, but I’ve had a hell of a lot of fun (between the rampant waves of panic attacks and fervent prayers) along the way.
My children are so used to my swinging the car around that when jersey dividers force you to pass your left and double back before you can take it, they don’t believe I’m not screwing up again. It’s rugged. Still, so many lovely and unexpected tours and experiences….
Today I played taxi service/chaperone to teen hangouts. I studiously and responsibly parked a little ways off and gave them some “independent time” while secretly stalking them until I was comfortable enough to wander off on my own for a nice stroll. A path should be well marked. A path should be wide enough to be distinguishable from worn animal tracks so that small children in fairy tales, and people with my particular challenge will be less likely to wander off, following pretty things, and leaves and feathers floating in the breeze off the “path” and into the wild. Not every one feels this as I do, at least not the people in charge of idiot marking trails. Today I went wandering and wandered off the path, enchanted by neat rocks, turtle families, swans, and super awesome things. I discovered that I was no longer actually ON any path so I made my own. That’s ok. I brought snacks, and water. This ain’t my first rodeo. If I can’t FIND the path, I sure as hell know how to barrel through the woods howling and whipping branches out of my face until I find the others.