On Detours
Detours–what a waste of time, huh?
Driving home from a weekend away, engrossed in conversation with my travelmate I didn’t pay attention to the signage on the way out of Regina. What felt like moments later, I felt a shift in direction as we passed through the Qu’Appelle Valley.
I’d taken the wrong road out.
Feeling rather foolish and anxious to get home, I turned around on the highway and started nosing our way back in time. My travelmate had trusted me to bring her home safely, and here we were somewhat lost.
My travelmate shrugged and said she hadn’t seen much of Saskatchewan anyway. A short distance later, I saw the turnoff to Craven. My internal map told me we could cut across the countryside rather than backtrack all the way to where the road had originally forked 45 minutes earlier.
The view of the valley from the highway was beautiful, but the winding country road led us past sleepy farmyards and sleepier cows. The river slowly snaked alongside, cutting through an autumnal landscape hidden from the main road. I relaxed. There was no point fighting the detour. I reminisced the first camping trip my mother took us on, ever thirty years ago, to this very spot.
The Road in Is Not the Road Out
This morning, I can’t help but smile at the odds of finding myself in a place I’ve dreamed of so often in the past three decades. It was like an unexpected yet welcome glimpse back into my past.
This weekend, our keynote speaker, Karen Solie, spoke of inspiration the evening before, and how the origins of that very word come from Latin roots meaning to breathe—this detour allowed me to breathe in a breath of fresh air, a breath from the past that has been hanging on the peripheral valleys of my mind.
In her poem “The Road in Is Not the Road Out,” Karen Solie takes us on a journey that begins:
The perspective is unfamiliar.
We hadn’t looked back going in,
and lingered too long
at the viewpoint…
And ends:
…It yields
to traffic from both directions.
It appears it could go either way.
So, What are you trying to say, Rach?
I’m not totally sure, but it feels big.
Let’s stop criticising ourselves for those detours and seek the inspiration and the lessons along the journey. Often the chasm between the road in and the road out hold the epiphanies that keep us going–the moments that allow us to breathe in a little deeper. Those are the moments in which we should linger.
Sitting here in the comfort of my home, I am grateful for the details of my roundabout journey home. What if I’d take the shortest route—the one I’ve always taken home? There would have been no snaking stream, no sleepy cows, no remembrance of that little girl who breathed in the magic of the Qu’Appelle Valley. What if each destination in my life had gone according to plan—there would be less pain, less wasted time, but less joy and less breathtaking moments. In the end, I made it home every time.
Finding Your way home
As you to think of the deviations that have brought you to this exact moment in time. It’s important to take a moment to remember the journey, not just the end destination.
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Lovely