Take the case of my country road experience last week, which caused me to ponder the benefits of guidance. Striving to balance work and less-work, I have a little place in the wilds of central Illinois where I spend a large portion of my time reading, cooking, playing fetch with a Yorkie, and communing with the beauty that surrounds me. It's everything I need to be comfortable - small enough that housekeeping is a breeze, a sweet view, shade trees, a screened-in porch, and air conditioning for hot summer days. One thing this place does not have, however, is a full-service grocery store within a half hour's drive; so, periodically I make the trek into a nearby town that is bustling by comparison. There are two ways to get there, too, and I really appreciate options in life. I can take the highway, or I can take the scenic backroads. Either way, my view is corn, but the back roads provide serenity and fewer vehicles, and so I chose that day to take the road less traveled.
After winding through gravel roads to get onto the paved road that would take me into town, I was a bit surprised to suddenly feel a bump (though a sign had warned me) and then the vibration of a grooved surface that had been prepped for resurfacing. About three minutes of vibration made the sight of a flag person up ahead a welcomed one, as he directed my car onto newly paved road. Ahhh. But no sooner had I acclimated to the smooth new surface, I was then moved back onto the other side's rough surface by another flag person. This little dance continued until I reached town. . . smooth, rough, smooth, rough, left, right, bump, bump, bump . . . always with the guidance of a flag person. Like life, I thought. Always changing. With so frequent changes, the guidance had been helpful. It had made sense of the "dance moves", and I reached my destination without car damage.
I finished my business in town, loading the fresh veggies that would be my stir-fry within the next hour. Itching to get into a new book I'd ordered for my Kindle, I comtemplated my return to my nest in the woods only a moment to consider my options. Did I really want to do the dance again? It's a corn view either way. I made a determined left toward the highway to take my chances with the smooth, more heavily traveled road.
I like options. Call it informed experience or inspiration, that route choice was just right.
Embrace your options!