Turn, turn, turn.

(Image via YouTube)
(Image via YouTube)

“To everything,

(turn, turn, turn)

there is a season,

(turn, turn, turn)…”

~ The Byrds

While the turning points in our lives don’t exactly sneak up on us, they do seem to appear in ways that are different than we may have originally imagined them to be.

Sure, it’s easy to see the red flags waving and hear the sirens wail of warning for other people, but often when it comes to ourselves, I have learned that the signs are much more small and quiet.

So small, that if we’re not watchful, we will overlook them. So quiet, that if we’re not still, we will not hear them.

Then, amazingly – and undoubtedly – after a week, a month, a decade has passed, something will provoke us to pause on our journeys and wonder how we got to where we are. Our mind’s eye will display a map of our previous wandering and there, between the monotony, the calamity and the rare belly laugh, we will see the turning points that we may not have seen before.

The hunch that we mistook for just crazy talk.

The aha moment that we made into a joke.

The synchronistic series of events that we chalked up to plain old coincidence.

But as we survey our lives in hindsight, we see no coincidence in sight. Only dots that connect to other dots that connect to our current plight.

Consequently, the question, “How did I get here?” becomes rhetorical—an excuse to hear the sound of our own voice. Because we know exactly how we got “here.” We got “here” by choice.

Now this is not, by any means, a cue to signal regret. If anything, this is cause to rejoice. Because if we were able to get “here” by choice and we do not particularly like where we are, then we can choose again.

And again.

And again and again and again until “here” is where we want to be.

Therefore, turning points are merely turnstiles that mark new paths that will lead us to our desires.

It is interesting, however, how the idea of experiencing something new can be so desirable in an advertisement for a new product or a new service; yet when it comes to us living our lives, new experiences are often met with the resistance of old patterns.

Old fears.

Old rhetorical questions.

Though truthfully – at least, it is my truth – those old things never really go away. In fact, they seem to multiply whenever newness rears its shiny head. It has been my experience as well that this phenomenon is natural.

It’s natural to question and fear what is new because, well, it’s new. We are unfamiliar with newness; therefore, what we are unfamiliar with, we often find uncomfortable.

But what is also uncomfortable – at least, for me – is the so-called ‘comfort’ that we say we feel in old and familiar circumstances, despite the actual discomfort that those circumstances may bring us. In other words, being comfortable with discomfort yields no real comfort at all—a universal truth that we generally do not fully recognize until…

Amazingly – and undoubtedly – after a week, a month, a decade has passed, something will provoke us to pause on our journeys and wonder how we got to where we are. Our mind’s eye will display a map of our previous wandering and there, between the monotony, the calamity and the rare belly laugh, we will see the turning points that we may not have seen before.

The hunch that we mistook for just crazy talk.

The aha moment that we made into a joke.

The synchronistic series of events that we chalked up to plain old coincidence.

But as we survey our lives in hindsight, we see no coincidence in sight. Only dots that connect to other dots that connect to our current plight.

Consequently, the question, “How did I get here?” becomes rhetorical—an excuse to hear the sound of our own voice. Because we know exactly how we got “here.” We got “here” by choice.

So with this reminder, let us now renew our choice to be where we really want to be—geographically, financially, physiologically, mentally, emotionally, and spiritually.

As we embrace this autumn season and observe Mother Nature turn from hot to cold and from green to gold, may we be so inspired to be as bold as to always choose to turn toward our true nature and not turn tail and run. May we accept the nature to fear change as readily as nature changes, and still endeavor to:

Turn our hunches into clues.

Turn our aha moments into lamps.

Turn the synchronistic series of events in our lives into paths that will lead us to truly living.

Copyright © 2014-2016 Stephanie Rochelle Redd. All rights reserved.

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