Imagine you are sitting in your car before a stop light. Your light is red and you nonchalantly watch the cars crossing back and forth in front of you for, of course, their light is green. You settle the back of your head against your headrest and embrace the quiet sound of tires on the pavement. One quiet whoosh, another quiet whoosh. The sound is very meditational. You realize that you have been sitting there an awfully long time. You peer closer at the cars going by and wonder why you hadn't seen it before. Why you hadn't been present, more aware of your surroundings. Everything you have been need to release, to get rid of, has been driving by right before your eyes. Now that you have opened your awareness, acknowledge each weight you have been lugging around and let it go on its way. Part of you feels calm and part of you feels excited. You are no longer anxious for the light to turn green. You embrace this opportunity to clear your own slate. You sit more deeply into your seat and take the time it takes to let everything go by on its own. You stay until the intersection clears and is quiet. You know when the light does turn green, it will be because you are ready to peacefully move forward.
How many of life's intersections have we been at without recognizing the lesson or opportunity before us? Is there a map that shows us where to stop?
"Sometimes she wondered if everyone had a map but her. Did they all actually know where they were going? Did they have the directions to this happily ever after? And if they did know, why did they never stop? So what if she didn't have a map. She had good strong legs, strong enough to chase the happily ever after… And a strong enough heart to know that sometimes stopping to enjoy the happily right now was pretty good, too." Jodi Hills
“In thy face I see the map of honor, truth, and loyalty” William Shakespeare
Do we wear the map of our soul on our face?
And, if someone were to hand you a life-map, would you take it? Or would you rather be surprised at every turn? Would you rather overcome the dead ends on your own or have the key to never being in one?
You are back in front of that very same red stoplight you were at earlier. I want you to notice how, this time, there are barely any cars, if even any. You set your head back and feel your body melting into the seat that supports you. You breathe in. Life is good. You are content with not having a map; the GPS you hear is the sound of your inner voice.