On more than one occasion, I’ve uttered the words, “Oh, great. I have no idea where I am.” For a directionally challenged person such as myself, this is a common phrase! Back in 2005, I added Beijing to my list of international cities where I’ve been completely lost.* In a place where English makes a rare appearance and tourists from the West stick out like a sore thumb, it becomes vitally important to find the way back to home base as soon as possible, (nothing attracts a pickpocket or worse than a confused looking tourist!). What set this event apart from all the rest was the fact that I had a compass keychain dangling from my belt loop. Between a city bus map display, my street map, and the needle of a compass, I was able to find my way back to the hotel by matching up Chinese characters and traveling North and then East. My compass saved me that day by showing me where I needed to go and I’ve never forgotten that gift. Seven years later, it’s still my lifeline.
I’ve often referred to my recent journey to London as a life-altering experience, despite my struggle to understand the full impact it has had on my life. Some changes are obvious, but the deeper meaning dangles in front of me like a clue in a mystery waiting to be solved. I am different in a place so hidden and so deep I can’t see it or even begin to comprehend it’s significance. All I have is the unrelenting sense of a huge shift towards something. It’s a lot like standing at a fork in the road without knowing what the choices are or why they exist.
Essentially, I am lost all over again without knowing the language. Being lost in this way is both wondrous and frustrating. Sometimes I revel in the confusion and the inspiration it brings, but there are times I wish I had a road map that at least reveals the basic layout of my new landscape.
Upon returning from London, the feeling of disorientation was overwhelming. I couldn’t shake the duality of being excited to go home, while at the same time feeling as though I was leaving home. Torn in two, I oscillated between a life I loved and a life I didn’t know was possible, (and loved just as much). Nothing seemed real. In the months that followed, that surreality never left and I grew increasingly restless. My perspective had changed so drastically, it effected every element of my life and made even the most the familiar things seem foreign.
I remain directionally challenged and my reliance on a compass has manifested itself in an entirely new way. About a month after my return, I was out shopping with family when I spotted a necklace with a compass pendant. It was beautiful, not only in terms of design, but for the fact that it represented something very special to me. With every spin of the needle, I am reminded that as lost as I sometimes feel, I will find my way to true north.
I wear my compass necklace almost every day so I don’t forget to follow my instincts and listen for hints that will eventually lead to the answer I seek. All I know for certain is London taught me I am a lot stronger than I ever believed and that serves as my anchor. At the moment, I walk this path with a smile on my face and growing curiosity of what lies ahead. Just as it always has, my compass will point me in the right direction.
– – –
*Oh, the stories I have from London, Paris, Rome, Prague, and Dublin! I suppose that’s another post for another day.
– – –