How to Stop Wandering Aimlessly

Or… Your Life Needs Lane Markers Too

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You know that moment when you realize you've been wandering aimlessly and think, 'Great, now I'm lost in my own life.' That's a wake-up call with a side of irony. You feel like you keep wandering off the path and ending up somewhere you never wanted to be. One day, you wake up, and you're like, wait, what am I doing here? Sucks right?

In 2012, we snagged ourselves a sleek Mazda Z3 in preparation to zoom through Europe. We had just sold everything in The Bahamas, setting the stage for a whirlwind European escapade with our fourteen-year-old daughter. We had one carry-on suitcase each, plus my bag of business necessities (yes, I was running a million-dollar business while exploring the mountain towns of Tuscany). Oh, and we had Zed. Zed is what our daughter, Emily, named the new Mazda Z3. I can still remember our little American/Bahamian girl giggling at the salesman's pronunciation and so Zed just stuck. Now he had a name, and we all started speaking to Zed like he was a real person. Soon he was more than just a car—he was our travel companion, our lunch room on European highways, and the unexpected family member who heard every squabble (the one where Emily left our only power converter in the hotel twenty minutes behind us), laugh (the one where Mark drove on the wrong side of the road for ten minutes), and secrets whispered (the one where I admitted I was terrified of the mountain passes in the Swiss Alps. Do you KNOW how high that is?). All this chummy stuff is super dangerous because you start to get attached to a car like he's a part of the family or something, and that's weird, right?

Trust me, it's weird. So weird that twelve years and hundreds of thousands of miles later, the thought of parting with Zed left me with a wrenching twist in my gut I couldn't ignore.

"Don't worry," Mark said as I whined yet again about letting him go. "Zed's like Dr. Who. He never actually leaves. He just regenerates into a new body. We'll get another Mazda." So we did. A Mazda 2 this time because Emily has flown the nest, and we barely need a back seat.

Did you know twelve years is a long time? Like, a lot happens in twelve years. Teenagers don't want to drive across Europe with you anymore. You can no longer button your only pair of Citizens of Humanity jeans (if you have more than one pair, you need to get right with yourself and make a charitable donation or something). And in twelve years, new cars get all kinds of funky and honestly slightly disconcerting features.

You see, Zed didn't regenerate like Dr. Who and just get a new face and a new outfit. He regenerated like the Tardis - all new buttons, beeps, and bitching we don't yet understand. (And can I just say, I'm sorry if you don't watch Dr. Who. Not because you are missing my brilliant analogies, but because.... you don't watch Dr. Who)

The honestly disconcerting feature? If you are driving and you wander over the road marking that designates your lane, Zed yells at you loudly and then MOVES YOU BACK INTO THE LANE! I fully realize that most of you have probably had this capability in your vehicles for years, so forgive me for my astonishment. You can, of course, use your turn signal to let Zed know you are moving into the next lane, and then he won't yell or drag you back. The problems start when the road doesn't have any lane markers. Zed doesn't know where you are and can't help you. You are on your own.

So, what does Zed remind me of? He's a bit aggressive with all the yelling and forceful steering, but he's reminding me of the simple art of knowing where you are going.

You very rarely get into your car and drive without a destination in mind (well, maybe you do, but I don't. I have the strong possibility of ending up freezing to death on a dead-end road in the Highlands with some game-keeper standing over me with a shotgun). Your life plans are your lane markers. If you plan your journeys, you'll have an interior Zed. You'll know what the markers look like, so if you wander outside your lane, you'll beep at yourself and drag yourself back between your road markers. Unless you signal a change in plans, then you can go. The point is, if you don't have a journey planned, you don't have the road markers to guide you. You'll let other people drive your life around and get lost.

It's not really that complicated when you think about it. You have points A and B, and you know you want to get from one to the other. When you're driving your Zed, you want to get from your house to the supermarket, and Zed will keep you straight. When you're driving your life, you want to get from not having a podcast to having a podcast, from frustrated to satisfied, from struggling with money to financially independent. Eventually, you'll need a map to get from point A to point B (which is what The Heroine's Adventure gives you), but at first, just planning a trip will put you miles ahead of everyone else, and at least you'll know when to start beeping, and you can steer back between the lines.

JOURNAL PROMPT:

Today, you don't need to know HOW to get there. You just need to know that you want to get there. Write about some journeys you'd like to take. What are your A and B points? Dream a little. Wake yourself up to the possibilities of traveling inward to find your journeys. Put yourself in the driver's seat.