“There are paths and there are signs along the way. And sometimes there are signs with paths along the way. The trick is knowing which is which.”

Dear Universe,

A few weeks ago I needed to drive to my intern’s house to drop off some work for her.

(Let me pause for a second. Just the fact that I actually have an intern this summer, still blows my mind.)

But anyway, my husband and son came along for the ride. I punched the address into my GPS and off we went.

As we neared the exit off the highway, and drove closer to her home, I was instantly brought back in time. It turned out I was very familiar with where she lived.

I was flooded with memories of taking this very same exit, and exact same road, everyday, year after year after year, to a job I knew wasn’t right for me.

At the time, I was was young(er) obviously and felt grateful to have a steady job in a good career—teaching high school. I felt lucky that I liked what I did—teaching students.

But there was a lot about the job and the place and the people that wasn’t a right fit for me. There was cattiness, drama, and mostly just a nagging feeling that this was supposed to be a pit stop and not a forever home.

The problem was the longer I stayed, the harder it was to leave.

Despite the dozens of signs from the Universe pointing me in another direction, and despite the very obvious sense that something wasn’t right, I continued to stay for all the wrong reasons.

There were a few distinct morning drives that stand out in my mind, even now, all these years later.

They were the mornings when my intuition was particularly fed up and screamed at me. One day it told me to just keep driving, to go past the exit, and that I would figure out the destination as I went.

I still got off the exit.

That day anyway. Eventually, when a personal crisis happened days before I was about to start a new school year, I finally honored what the voice had been telling me for a long time.

I did the drive one final time, packed up my classroom and left. I didn’t know where I was going next, but I trusted I would figure it out as I went. At that point, in the middle of utter chaos and confusion, this choice felt logical, sane and right. I grabbed onto it the way someone sky diving must feel when she reaches for her parachute.

I never looked back and I never drove back.

So it felt a little surreal, to say the least, as I took the drive to my intern’s house. Here I was, taking that same road, my husband beside me, my son in the back, and my business in the trunk. And there I was calm, serene and not feeling a bit of that same anxiety I did all those years ago.

The thing is, that was almost nine years ago now.

It feels so much swifter than that.

But when I think about how much my life has transformed, how much I longed for and worked for the transformation, I can slow down the memories and all the days and years are clear as ever.

There has been a lot of life lived in these last nine years.

That night, as we settled in, I turned to David.

“I had a moment earlier today.”

“Yeah. Why was that?”

“If someone had told me all those years ago, not to worry, that it was all going to work out—that I’d be a professor, a writer, a wife and a mom, own my own business, and that I’d one day take this same road to get to my intern’s house, it would have blown my mind. I’m not sure I would have believed it.”

David looked at me and smiled. “And here you are.”

Here I am.

Happy. Peaceful. Grateful.

Grateful I got off that exit for the last time in the pursuit of a new pit stop, a new adventure, and a new outlook.

A forever home.

We don’t always know where we’re going. And even though it’s a natural part of life, I know it can be terrifying.

But sometimes knowing where we aren’t going is a start. It helps narrow down our choices.

There’s also beauty in the unknown if we are open to it. There are possibilities waiting for us every step of the way.

And if we listen carefully, our intuition is guiding us. It knows the way.

Mine certainly did.

These days I listen more carefully, accept the wisdom and make more certain choices because of it.

And that’s my wish for all of you too—to be in tune with yourself, to trust yourself to know you will figure out where you’re going next.

Happy. Peaceful. Grateful.

If you haven’t yet, give it a try.

With Gratitude,