Too Many Paths

Car rides with my mother is the best conversation time for us. We are uninterrupted by whining dogs, cats that demand petting, and the mess of day-to-day living. We are two women in a car who can focus solely on each others' problems. I asked her for advice. She is great with advice. She always goes above and beyond with how many ideas I think she will come up with to end my problems. A yes or no answer is not her cup of tea. Today, I decided to ask for help concerning what to do if I wanted to see other countries. I have this burning desire to pack a small bag and be out of the country by sunset. I want to go now. Not tomorrow or 365 days from now. Now. Now. Now. I know I sound like a child who has one too many candy bars and still asks for 5 more, but this is how I feel. I hate the waiting. It destroys my lust for adventure. It widdles away at my determination til nothing remains but fragments that can barely remember the desire that once made them strong.

Forgive me, I digress.

So I asked. She gave. Her advice was to see what my school offered as far as international programs, summer conferences, internships, and international jobs. I was, in her words, to never stop asking questions til I got all the answers, which in my case, would be sometime next never. As she was talking about all the things I could do, I began to think. How many choices do I have? How will I make them? All these roads, these opportunities went in all directions. How will I know which one is right for me? I suppose we all have crossroads like this spread across the country of our lives. These never ending highways of choices and stop lights that hold us til life can start again. Where are our road maps? The faithful guides on which to build our road trips, that mostly never fail to bring us home again. The song, Life is a Highway, rings in my head even now. Reminding me to keep riding. Enjoy it. And maybe, just maybe, throw out my road map if I can find it.