This morning Asha and I walked to the bridge over gentle waters. It was sunny and a pleasant 28°. No biting wind. I was in no hurry so instead of returning the way we came, we took a longer route home on a different trail.
We first explored this trail in the early spring. I hoped it would loop behind the beaver pond and bring us back out on the road near home. But the trail veered to the right and became steeper, taking us away from the pond.
Asha and I kept going with me saying, “Let’s go to that tree and see what we see.” At the aforementioned tree, I’d set my sights on some other destination, all the while wondering if perhaps we should turn around. On we went until we came out on a dirt road I recognized and knew would connect with the road we live on.
Today, as Asha leapt over rock walls and I skirted icy patches, I remembered that I’d looked for this trail in the summer and couldn’t find it. Instead I ended up on private land. I turned around and tried again and found myself among the trees with no clear path forward. I searched for a while and, after being stung by a wasp, gave up.
But today, there the trail was. So clear. So obvious. So hard to miss.
I don’t know what happened that summer day. Perhaps the trail marker had come down. Perhaps the path was obscured by the leaves on the trees. Perhaps I turned too soon onto what looked like a trail, but wasn’t. Perhaps, perhaps. Whatever the reason, I couldn’t find it.
Sometimes that’s how it is. I think I know the way forward and I don’t. Then the seasons change, something shifts and the way becomes clear.
A question about a possible direction for Whimsy & Tea has been on my heart for a couple years. From time to time, I’ve jotted down ideas, but none have clicked. I’ve yearned for clarity and it’s been frustrating, waiting for answers or partial answers.
Then the other day a conversation about something else sparked an idea that pointed to a way forward with my question. A few days later a comment in a webinar led to a helpful connection. Slowly things are falling into place.
Instead of walking to a tree or the next bend and seeing what’s there, I am moving forward one email, one phone call at a time. Perhaps this is more like bush whacking than being on a clear trail and that’s okay. The path is unfolding and I don’t need (or want) to force it.
Although I’m not entirely sure where I’m headed, I’m out exploring trails. I’m finding my way to wherever my destination turns out to be and I’ll know when I’ve arrived.