I wish I could view the road map of my life. I wish I could look at my life like an experienced cartographer and have a full perspective of where Road A will lead me as I look for a career or how Road B will affect my relationships with those I cherish.
If I could, I would be able to answer questions like: Which options in my life will be straightforward and contain the fewest curves and fewest roadblocks? Which will lead me down a thick, forested trail riddled with thorns and branches that scratch the surface of my skin and slowly bleed me out?
I also wish I could view the road map of those I love. It shames me to admit it, but I think I would treat people differently if I knew more about their life map. “Will she always live nearby? I should visit her more often while I still can.” “Will he ever betray my trust and ruin our friendship? Perhaps I should get out before things take a turn for the worst.”
There are days when my desire to see a road map of life is strong. These are usually the days that are tough, days where I question the roads I’ve selected and whether I will be where I want to be once I pass through this winding stretch of asphalt. But life is not so transparent. All I see as I stand above my roadmap are persistent clouds that dissipate only over roads I’ve already traveled.
On most days, I am satisfied with my blindness. I can stare at the clouds that hang above my life with a sense of excitement and curiosity for the destinations they hide.
Afterall, road trips are always better with a hint of mystery.