Highway Navigation and Life

As I wove my way through the abundant signage of the Portland highways and byways, I followed what seemed like logical steps to reach my desired coastal route. I'd returned to Portland that way, but had never tried to find the correct highway from the East.
Hmmm....

Well, I was sure that I'd find my way, since at least I knew which I was after. Somehow, there was a peace with me about it, and I wasn't in a GREAT hurry under the duress of deadlines particularly. Yeah, I'd get there, and the AAA guide lit by the dome light at 65 might help, or so I hoped....

"Terwilliger ahead" the large reflective sign barked, as my brights shone on the metal arrowed sign. "Keep Left" the next one warned, so I tried. I followed winding narrow roads, still faithful that the little coastal highway lay ahead. It just had to be there.... The guide vaguely discussed the route and the map showed a sketch of the connections. A sketch is the keyword here!

Past this college and into that dark though peaceful neighborhood began to make me doubt the signs' veracity. "Maybe I made a wrong turn somewhere back there," I thought, though I'd taken great care. See, I've never found highway entrances in residential neighborhoods before, so what were the chances I'd find one here?

Somehow, though, I managed to stay steady and remain on the winding tour, lit only by the lights of the night and the heavy slivered moon reflecting from the adorned bay below and all around.

As I passed a large sign that pointed its way to my "homeward bound," I admittedly panicked. "Where is the second entrance," I wondered. "How, after all, do two highways take up the same space as one?"

When I'd realized what I'd done, time was too late. The one-way street would tolerate no fancy driving, and my 14 ft U-Haul rig with car dolly in tow would tolerate even less. There was no going back, only moving forward. Gee, isn't this like life itself? (Does this put civil engineers in a whole new light.:)

I "forgave myself" first, by telling myself that the first round was just a trial run. Yet, I gratefully gave thanks when I rounded the once lost curve for my final route home. And I'd spent only one-half hour getting a bead on my original approach, concluding my 4:00 a.m. inky black tour of Terwilleger, Oregon and its quaint approach to Highway 26 West.

Spiritual life is so much like our travels in our daily life. If we read the signs, trust them, and "stay left" as directed, we get there without "trial runs." It's called Godspeed! Though, for those who like to do things with a bit more drama, the Universe will always repeat the opportunity to do it right the first time.