Every man has to learn the points of compass again as often as he awakes…Not till we are lost, in other words not till we have lost the world, do we begin to find ourselves.

Henry David Thoreau

Henry David Thoreau (1817-1862) was an American author, philosopher, and transcendentalist whose most famous work, Walden, continues to influence lives today.

 

When I was nine years old, my parents divorced and I had to attend a new school in a new, small town. I was shown the way to get there when my mother registered me, and the next school day, I headed out the door with some trepidation about what the other kids in my class would be like but completely confident that I could find my way to school without a problem.

The fact that there was a heavy, pea-soup fog that kept me from seeing more than a few feet in front of me wasn’t a worry. I knew the school was only a short walk away and trusted myself to get there.  Then, as I reached an intersection, the nature of the pavement changed from asphalt to a gravelly aggregate.  The many pebbles and bits of gravel in the road made me worried I had reached the end of town—my new house was only a couple of blocks from a corn field, after all—and I was stopped cold.  I thought the right way to school was directly in front of me, but the road change made me think that if I kept going straight, I’d end up out in the country and hopelessly lost.

I peered intensely into the fog but could see nothing in any direction. My choices were to turn around and go home, where I knew I’d receive a scolding, keep going straight and potentially end up hopelessly lost out in the country, or turn to the left, which I knew would take me further in to town but would not necessarily get me to school.  To be late on my first day would have been an utter disaster and embarrassment, I was certain.  It was all just too much, and I froze, paralyzed by my inability to see combined with not trusting my inner compass because it conflicted with the more tangible gravelly road.

Within a couple of minutes, I saw a dark shadow off to my left. Another kid was walking in the fog, and he or she boldly strode into the gray mist, apparently unaware of the gravel on the road that portended disappearance into the freshly harvested corn rows.  It occurred to me that if that person was walking into the fog without fear, then maybe it was the right way to go.

I walked after this person into the fog. The road remained a weird, pebbly aggregate and never turned to actual gravel.  And then, not long after I could no longer see the intersection behind me, I began to make out the black shadows of the two-story tall evergreens that lined the playground of the elementary school.  I still couldn’t see the school, but I knew the trees would help me find my way; I was going to be okay.

THOUGHTS AND QUESTIONS FOR CONSIDERATION

Journal or sketch your reactions to the quote and the reflection on it. Then, consider the following questions:

Starting a new calendar year means that many of us are striving to start new things and head down new paths. Where are you headed?  Do you have a clear map of how to get there?

What tools will you take along so that when the path forward gets foggy and unclear, you’ll discern what to do next?

What will you do if you get lost in the fog?

Trust is a huge factor in starting new adventures, whether your goals are large or modest. What do you trust yourself to do when the next steps aren’t clear?  What signs and messages from within yourself will you trust?

What can you do to remember to be kind to yourself and engage in second-guessing when you feel confused?