I have been thinking a lot lately of the roads not taken – and pathways not explored – in the first half of my life.

You know the roads I mean. They were the ones I chose not to turn on to . . the ones I decided to drive by rather than risk getting lost on their twists and turns.

What secrets did they hold?

What secrets might they still hold if I could find my way back to them? Should I even go looking, the past being what it is and all?

What different directions might my life have taken had I turned off that main path sooner? It’s so easy to get lazy . . to get comfortable. Then again, isn’t comfort one of those things we’re all looking to wrap ourselves in as midlife rushes ever forward?

Why did I choose one road and not the other? Of course, there are so many different choices roads in a lifetime. New ones are being built, resurfaced, and deconstructed all the time. Who’s to say which might hold the greatest promise in the long run?

Was that winding serpent of a highway that turned my 40′s inside out trying to teach me something I refused to learn any other way . . or just forcing me to focus on the matters at hand?

Was that big bump in the road I traveled in my 20′s there for a reason, or was it just a fluke of nature . . just a build-up of last winter’s left-overs?

It seems the super highway of my own first half was constantly getting side-tracked. Now I find it keeps rejoining itself in amazing new places that were there all along – just not always there in my earlier narrow picture of the world.

Has that always been the case? Or am I becoming more observant with the passing of time?

What Roads Have You Skipped Along The Way?

And what about you? What roads did you choose to travel – or to pass by with hardly a glance?

Are you – like me – thinking more often about your own roads not taken?

Are you wondering what those little alleyways might shown you had you just taken the time to meander down them . . even just one of them?

After all, each turn we make in life – each road we choose to travel or pass by – changes us.

But let’s face it: We ARE busy people. Life moves so fast. Side-roads are often just blurs that we pass by on our way to …………. where was that again?

And the changes we experience in turning away from one road and down another aren’t necessarily what we expect or want, are they? Change can be hard.

Some roads aren’t meant to be taken. Some paths are best left to themselves.

Or are those just excuses we’ve gotten used to telling ourselves?

Think about it: The roads that bring real change may at first glance have seemed too narrow – too tricky – to warrant our giving them much attention.

There could have been danger in traveling them. How much did we have to risk? Too much?

They could have lead us . . nowhere. And then, they could have led us . . somewhere beyond our deepest dreams.  But how were we to know . . what?

Besides, such roads don’t always announce themselves loudly enough to get past all our first half distractions.

Even more, some of the changes they held – however important – may have been too subtle for us to even notice.

(I don’t know about you, but sometimes I can get so caught up in my own stuff that I tune out the rest of the world. Change – and everything else – has yell for me to hear.)

If I can’t hear it calling, how am I to know that little sliver of a road is the one that needs my attention NOW?

And how was I to know that the many intersecting lanes, roads, and alleyways of my life’s first half had anything to show me? They seemed to be merely distractions.

What I’ve Noticed Of Roads Not Taken

In any case, I’ve been doing a lot of noticing of my roads taken – and not – lately.

Why was I more pulled to travel one, and not another? Was it simply chance? Or was it something I recognized in one or the other that I may not even have connected at the time?

Well, I obviously don’t have all the answers. I do have some thoughts, however. (You’re welcome to agree with me, or to disagree completely. Either way, I’d love to hear what you have to say.)

Looking back from my midlife vantage point, the way I see it is that:

1. Sometimes the road not taken was under construction. I wasn’t meant to take it. I might have wanted to, but nature, fate, the highway department stepped in to save me. From what, I’ll never know. I just consider myself lucky – or not so much.

2. Sometimes the road not taken was a dead end. (This usually happened when I was looking for short-cuts. I knew better, but I did it anyway.)  The road might have taken me down a beautiful or interesting stretch of life. But in the end, I’d have saved no time and landed nowhere. Well, I’d have landed somewhere – just not where I wanted to be. It always meant turning around, retracing my steps, and looking for another path.

3. Sometimes the road not taken was a mirage. Oh, the wonders it seemed to hold for me were incredible. Perhaps too incredible? Maybe. But it’s so easy to let ourselves be drawn in to this perfect relationship . . that perfect job . . this perfect situation. Beware perfection. It’s a mirage.

4. Sometimes the road not taken was the path to the monster’s den. You know how the things that are worst for us are usually the most appealing? Exactly. Do you remember the turn offs in life’s first half that appeared to be all sweet and flowery with blue skies and singing birds . . just a little too perfect to be real . . but real enough that you really wanted to believe the answers you were seeking lay at the end? And what was actually at the end often turned out to be far less than you’d hoped . . a monster’s den . . complete with hungry  monster? And you learned: If it looks too good to be true, beware life’s monsters. They aren’t where you’re usually looking.

5. Sometimes the road not taken just wasn’t worth the time or the effort. Potholes! Yep, potholes. Life’s full of them. And they can do real damage, and take forever to navigate. We often have to learn where they are by trial and error, though. And we thought we were so smart. Hrumph!

6. Sometimes the road not taken had nothing new to teach. Life is full of things waiting to be learned. And we – you and I – are students to the end. Sometimes, though, it’s the same old stuff . . over and over again. You’ve traveled down one rut-filled road, you’ve traveled down them all. Re-learning the same old stuff is never as exciting as getting it the first time. If you’ve seen the same turn-off before, don’t bother.

7. Sometimes the road not taken was mis-taken. We missed it. We were flying by too fast and just didn’t notice it. It would have been a great adventure, if only. That’s okay. It hasn’t gone anywhere. Maybe we’ll catch it next time . . or the next.

8. Sometimes the road not taken was going in the wrong direction. We were heading onward. It was leading backward. We had more to learn. It’s teachings were too deep, too rich, too complicated for our level of understanding. We weren’t willing to hang around and stretch ourselves or our limits.  It demanded more time than we had to give.

Our Roads Don’t End At 50

We tend to look with regret on our roads not taken. And that’s too bad.

Life’s second half is full of choices . . full of roads and autumn lanes and busy streets and highways.

We can’t take them all.

Isn’t it kind of nice, though, to know we’ll always have plenty from which to choose?

Isn’t it kind of nice to know there will always be a new, less traveled, road just one turn ahead?

It’s been said that aging provides us the gift of slowing down. What better way to embrace that extra time than to journey on some of our roads not yet taken.

Who knows? Maybe some of life’s best IS yet to come where we least expect to find it!

.  .  .  .  .

What roads not taken are waiting for you to travel them?

What unexplored byways have been calling out to you of late?

What do you hope to find as you turn from one on to the next?

And how do you choose which to take now, and which to mark for later?

Share your stories of roads not taken, and where you landed instead.

And keep growing my friend,

Gail

Tagged as: Aging, life's first half, life's second half, Midlife, roads not taken