LOST IN THE WOODS

We were lost.  It wasn't hard to do.  A right hand turn instead of going straight.  Or maybe we went straight instead of turning left.  I'm not really sure.  But it was pretty evident that we were hopelessly lost.  The path we were on kept climbing up into the redwoods.  We saw a sign and it told us that the road would narrow for the next eight miles.  We eventually lost the yellow line that marks the middle of the highway and we were having to squeeze up against the side of the mountain to let cars going the other way pass.  Odd thing that.  We didn't see any cars ahead of us or behind us going the same way.  Just a semi-steady stream of day trippers headed down the mountain.

The gas gauge had dipped below the quarter-tank mark and the sun was beginning to dip as well.  The dense green forest we were in was cool and dark and damp.  It was truly beautiful, but the worry marker in my head was rising exponetially to the drop in temperature and daylight.  We knew which highway we were on, but we had no idea where it ended up, how long it would take to get to our mystery destination, or even if there was a filling station at the other end.  Our GPS didn't work because there was no signal in those hills.

My husband knew before I did that I was getting a bit aprehensive about this adventure.  He told me simply to follow my intuition.  My intution was screaming to turn around.  Head back to where you know there is a gas, food, and civilization.

So that's what we did.  Right there in the middle of the narrow road, we did a U-turn.  Don't you know right about then it was a traffic jam on that deserted road.  Four of five cars were impatiently urging me to hurry as I lumbered the truck across the road, back, forth, perfectly executing a twelve-point turn.  But I made it and we were headed back down the hill.

We found the road we had missed back a ways.  Discovered some quaint mining towns that had been in those hills for a hundred years.  We refueled and made it safely home.

As with many of life's adventures, this one had a spiritual message.  See, life is kind of like that excursion.  Am I on a road without a roadmap?  Am I running out of energy and have no idea where I am going? Am I climbing and climbing, enjoying the view, but aprehensive about where I am going to wind up?  Is it getting dark and those beautiful woods are starting to look scary?  Have I reached a point where I realize that I have not prepared myself for this journey?  Is it time to stop.  Trust my intuition.  Back out of the potentially dangerous situation.  Head back to safety and home?

We will go back to those woods.  But know this.  I now know where that road winds up.  And next time, I'll have a plan, a full day of sunlight and a full tank of gas, and sensible shoes and a jacket.  I want to explore those woods.  I want to stop and smell the forest.  And I want to be prepared for whatever adventure awaits.  And a map.  I want a map.