There are those moments that happen, periods in our lives, when we reach a fork in the road.
The wheel of life has revolved, and we’re faced with a choice. A momentous choice perhaps. We feel it, like a beckoning from the future, or an intolerance for the present.
Something wants to change.
“I don’t want to change. I like things how they are. It’s safe here, familiar.” The voice inside me says.
The resistance spins its insidious web, telling me how dangerous it is to change. The ego clings to its notion of itself.
“Maybe this is a distraction, and not really what I want.” the resistance whispers in my own voice.
But I can tell it’s signifiant. It’s palpable somehow. I just know, I feel it.
I’ve reached a turning point.
There are two choices.
We can choose the change that presents itself, follow the new course, and discover the undiscovered.
Or we choose normality and keep plodding along the highway of what we already know. The wheel of change keeps on turning, and the choice point is passed over.
And in one sense, it doesn’t matter what we choose. Because even if we plump for normality, the wheel keeps on turning. And sooner or later it comes full circle and the choice point is presented anew.
Except this time, the urgency has been increased. The volume level higher. The insistence harder to ignore, the status quo harder to rationalize.
It will keep turning, returning to this point, until we choose what we’re asked to.
So in the longest sense of the game, we can’t go wrong.
But the price is time.
I feel it. The turning point returned. I’ve been here before. Everything slows down. The buzz of my refrigerator hums louder, as the air in the room grows sharp.
Life is asking me to level up, to embrace my power, to choose to show myself, to fulfil what I’m capable of. The fork in the road is right there before me.
“Will you take it this time?”
“Do I have to?” I whine. “It’s hard, I don’t think I can.”
No, I don’t have to. And nor do you. We can plough on, doing what we’ve always done. It will come around again. It has before. It will again.
But do you want to keep praying the price? The price of wasted moments?
Will you turn toward your higher self, and walk his or her path?
It’s not some moral standard you must adhere to. There’s no judgemental God or parent who will castigate you if you flunk out.
It’s up to you.
Do you want it?
Or would you rather turn back toward the safety of the couch, or a cigarette. The familiarity of a comfortable existence. Doing the work you’ve already been doing, because you’re good at it. It’s fine how it is.
The turning point is yours. It’s not something you have to take. You can sit back and wait until the wheel has spun so many times, that the tension is unbearable, and you can’t feel a choice, except to leap. That’s life’s way of ensuring you take the true path eventually.
You can do that if you want. I can too. I’ve done it plenty of times.
Or, you can slow down. Right now. And take a breath, deep in the centre of your belly.
It’s you that lies down that scarier path. Your truer nature embodied and lived a little more, with every small step you take.
I don’t want to hurry you. But life is waiting for you down there. How long it will take for the wheel to turn around to this point once more? Do you want to wait and see?
Or do you want to take that first shuffling step, down the road untraveled?