Life is a Maze

A friend of mine, who leads a women's group in her church, once used a maze as a metaphor for life. Sharing her personal journey, she compared major decisions she had to make to forks in the road. Would she go this way? Or that? Would she take the path to the left? Or to the right? Or perhaps go straight ahead? She then invited others to share their stories, and many did, often shedding tears as they talked about the decisions that molded their lives.

I began to reflect on my own life journey - and the decisions I made, starting around the time I left high school.

My parents strongly influenced my first major decisions - to attend university, rather than hunt for a job. (Both were immigrants and viewed education as the key to a better life.) They both wanted me to attend the University of British Columbia in Vancouver, where most of my friends were planning to go, because it was relatively close to home. In retrospect, this was probably a mistake for me. The university didn't offer the program I wanted (Journalism) and I endured a purposeless year there, somehow muddling through.

I realized then - beyond a shadow of a doubt - that I had to leave Vancouver (with its interminable rain) and do what I wanted to do...

One thing I really wanted to do was see the world. The only way I could do it - and still satisfy my parents - was to do a year's study abroad. I really wanted to study in France, but I didn't have any connections there. I did have a university friend from Israel who was returning home, so I decided to go there for a year, instead.

(Having followed my parents' well-meaning advice - and ending up miserable, I developed the personal motto: If I have to choose between pleasing others or pleasing myself, I'm going to please myself.)

It sounds selfish now, but at the time I knew it was essential for my emotional survival!

(How did Shakespeare put it...? "To thine own self be true...")

Mid-way through my year in Israel, I realized I could never go back to Vancouver. Why would I? I had been so unhappy there - and I was so happy in Jerusalem, a multi-cultural, multi-religious city where I found everything ... its ancient history, its present history, its religious practices ... so utterly fascinating.

My parents were devastated. They could accept a year abroad - but now, two more?! They tried to change my mind. A flurry of letters flew across the Atlantic... And when that failed, they uttered the ultimate threat to a 20-year-old student: If you stay in Israel, we will no longer support you financially.

Fine, I replied. I'll take out a student loan.

And that's what I did, supplementing it with part-time jobs.

I knew it was the right thing to do because I was happy!

And I did survive! And graduate...

Later - in my maze of life - there were other critical decisions, too numerous to mention:

• To return to Canada after completing my BA or stay in Israel? (I chose to stay...)
  
• To abandon my religious faith, ignore it, or affirm it...?
  
• To return to Canada or to try to live in Europe...? When working in Europe didn't seem feasible, I moved to Montreal, which had elements of both...

And so the decisions continued, bringing me to where I am right now... And (thankfully) right here is where I want to be!

I remember (when I was a child) my grade five teacher asking us to draw the house we wanted to live in when we grew up. Perhaps she thought we'd create futuristic homes in outer space or under the sea. I remember drawing a simple house, surrounded by a forest of trees. In it I would spend my time writing stories...

Sometimes, as I sit here on the living room sofa with my laptop - typing my blogs - I glance out the window at TREES all around, blocking neighbors' houses. I remember that picture and remind myself: This is where I wanted to be, even back then when I was 11!

Follow my "inner compass" brought me "home."

To my friend's metaphor of life being a maze, I'd like to add my own: My life is like a garment I have to wear: It has to be comfortable to me... It has to feel right! (And I'm the only one who knows how it feels...)

When I do wear it - wherever stage of life I am in - I will feel comfortably at home...