This past summer, I started hiking and walking at different parks and trails. One thing I noticed right away is how the trails are often marked with signs to make sure you stay on the path and don’t get lost. They are mostly at spots where another path or two veers off the main one—in some places, it is clear you shouldn’t head down another path because it is narrow, overgrown and would be difficult to navigate. But in other places, the off-shoot paths don’t look any different than the main path. Sometimes, the marker is as simple as a sign with an arrow on it, others it is a painted circle on a tree. At some parks, they look like real road signs. At each of these points, I was and still am grateful for whatever mark lets me know that if I follow that direction, I will not be led astray.
Last weekend, I was hiking with a friend on a trail that has become my favorite. I have hiked there 14 times over the past seven months, and I am now comfortable there. I no longer need to pay close attention to the trail signs as I once did. In fact, at one point, I told my friend that even though we could veer off to a different path because it eventually joins back up with the main one, we probably didn’t want to because that part of the trail is hilly, rocky and more difficult. We were toward the end of what was already a tiring hike, and I knew that way would be challenging, even though it would add no distance.
As we walked past the post letting us know there were two miles to go, I had the thought that I wished my life had visible signs pointing out the right, easiest way to go, that informed me the route I was on would take me through the shortest, least challenging way from point A to point B. That I wouldn’t end up lost. I wished there were clues that let me know when whatever path I was on would end, and I wished that when I was at a crossroads, the road I should take would be easily identifiable.
I wished that life had signs like this one at one of my favorite parks:
This sign that would tell me that life is about to spin me
in circles, but it is inevitable, and if I let myself ease into the circle, I
will soon be out of it and back on the right road.
Or these signs, simply telling me the direction I have to go because there is no other option. It’s going to be sharp, or curvy, but I am expecting it, and if I make that sharp turn, follow the curves, all will be well.
Or this one. Especially this one:
I could probably write an entire post like this about bridges. I may at some point. For now, I will say I don’t like bridges, I never have. Sometimes, they are stunningly beautiful, and I admire the engineering behind them. But I hate sitting in traffic stuck on a bridge. I don’t even like being stopped under one: in either situation, I always imagine them collapsing. But, since they are a necessary means to carry you over obstacles like rivers, or rocky streams in the case of this particular bridge, they are necessary. How great would it be if life had a warning sign to let you know that while there is some unknown obstacle ahead, there is a bridge to lead you over it safely?
Sadly, life is not that easy, and you are typically forced to build your own bridges, without the benefit of an engineering degree that ensures you make the best most sturdy of bridges. Instead, we cobble them together after we are already in the thick of the rocky, rushing river of complicated life.
But back to the theme of this post—if life had signs.
Yeah, it would be great if life had warning signs, alerting us to what struggles might be ahead; if we had them, we would never veer down paths that were going to take us the wrong way. We would know that going one direction instead of another would lead to challenges and heartaches we never imagined.
We would know that if we follow the signs and don’t deviate from the right path, all will be well, and we will get to where we want to be. In the case of hiking, following the trail signs means we are taking the best, easiest path that will take us back to our car. In life, it would be lovely to have signs letting you know that if you follow the right direction, you will end up exactly where you want to be, when you want to be there.
But we would also never know that taking one path over another can bring joys and experiences we wouldn’t otherwise have and couldn’t have imagined.
When hiking, there have been times veered I off the path, not on purpose, but because sometimes, I have hiked where the paths were not clearly marked. In October, I spent a weekend in Georgia and hiked much further than I planned to, by myself, over difficult terrain that I was not expecting, that I didn’t feel prepared for. Once I was on the trail, I had no choice but to keep forging ahead.
That ended up being one of my favorite hikes so far. If the path had been clearly marked, I would never have taken it because I know I would have been sure it was more than I could handle. By the time I realized it was too much for me, the way back if I had turned around would have been just as difficult, so I kept going.
And when it ended, I felt strong. Accomplished. Like I had earned the right to fist pump the universe. That was in October, and it is still the hardest hike I have done. I often look at the photos and think to myself, “Wow, I did THAT?!”
Once I started writing this last weekend after the hike with my friend, I realized that while I do at times wish life had signs directing me which way I should go, I also know that sometimes, taking paths I am unsure of will lead me to good things I would not have experienced if not for taking that particular route.
Life is not quite like hiking. There is never really one right path that gets you from point A to point B. My life, and everyone else’s is woven together from choices made when we weren’t sure what the wisest choice was. And of course, hindsight always gives the best opinion. But just like hiking, there comes a point in life where you can’t turn around and go back, you just have to keep forging ahead and have faith and hope that you will end up where you need to be at the end of the trail.
But I sure do wish it was as easy as following orange circle on a tree or an arrow on rusty sign.
