#103 – Or what did you think "unfolding" was?

One day when I was 18, my father asked me to drive him to pick up his new spectacles because he wanted to show me a new route he'd discovered. "Wait 'til you see how strange this new route is," he said, amused.

Following his directions, we ended up driving through mud in what looked like raw land in the middle of a developing commercial area. As a fledgling driver, I felt insecure navigating this unfamiliar terrain. Plus, since both my father and I considered ourselves "directionally challenged" (and this was years before GPS), I was convinced we’d spend the night driving in circles.

Throughout the adventure, my father kept repeating, "Where are we? What is this? This is so strange! Do you think we're lost?" 

When we finally found our way, he asked me, "Well, what did you think of the new route? Wasn't it strange?"

I slowly turned my head, hands still gripping the wheel, looking at him equal parts annoyed and relieved that the "adventure" was over.

He knew all along where we were. This was the strange new route.

Or what did I think strange meant?

* * *

So, when I say I allow life to unfold, am I secretly expecting signposts and arrows pointing me in the "right" direction?

That's not how it works. Life’s unfolding isn’t like spreading out a familiar bedsheet from the linen drawer. It's an unfolding for the first time, so we don’t know what’s coming.

How can you really allow life to unfold?

Love, 

Carolina