It's Your Turn--Take Your Own Detour

Sometimes life feels on autopilot. For life’s detours, where do you turn?

At spring’s start I was driving in North Philly-- many of the streets were blocked off for tree and pothole repair. I circumnavigated on streets I’ve never explored—especially since so many one-way paths create a somewhat confusing labyrinth. In a pretty banged-up section I was pleasantly surprised seeing gorgeous gabled homes, pretty brick rowhouses, and some glorious trees. And as I was turning one corner I noticed the quaintest coffee shop—that I never saw on my typical, route-by-rote commute. It stuck out to me—especially since run-down storefronts and homes bookended it.

We obviously never know what will appear when we turn a different corner—those sneaking surprises that delight our senses and broaden our perspective, perhaps meeting an inspiring person along the way. Yet we often relax into our known, predictable, and practical creature comforts. They’re easy. And how readily I fall into secure patterns. I get it. But seeing that unexpected coffee shop made me think that even if life doesn’t force us on a new path maybe we should make ourselves take new routes. Who knows all that we could be missing? Or that there could be other ways to turn?

I went to a moving and peaceful burial at a scenic cemetery last Friday. The woman who led the service concluded with a soulful meditation calling upon an archangel to channel our energies. What struck me at the time was that even though I’m a pretty open, faith-filled person…I never thought to pray to an archangel for guidance or support. This is not some religious soapbox post…my point is that the service opened my eyes and broadened my outlook. Even though I follow a religion I was surprised by yet another source of comfort to turn to.

That lesson can apply to anyone. Because, let’s face it—we all snuggle into our own grooves.

The other day my daughter made me flip through the car radio stations because she doesn’t like “old school” songs. She prefers the up-to-the-last-five-minute releases. But she made me stop at Nicki French’s 1994 dance version of “Total Eclipse of the Heart.” I started singing the catchy tune with lyrics I know too well. “Turn around…every now and then I fall apart…”

“Stop singing, Mom. I want to hear it,” she flat-out told me.

Wow, like Life cereal’s iconic 80’s commercials…she surprisingly liked it. Perhaps the lass will learn to love songs from other decades, even finding solace and inspiration from yesteryear’s melodies. I’ve often turned to music for meaning, and maybe she will, too—even those “old” songs.

Going a different way can be a refreshing start or spark something inside you. Create your own detours and take a unique turn—even towards a new source for needed guidance, support, and love. Be aware of those hidden muses to open your heart and mind. Like the song says, “There's no one in the universe as magical and wondrous as you.” Maybe you just need to take a turn.

Life is Like a Pot of Soup

In 1994 Forrest Gump made famous his mama’s lesson, “Life is like a box of chocolates….you never know what you're gonna get.” It’s the same when I make a batch of soup. Sometimes a pot will turn out especially tasty, and my husband will look at me and shake his head—because he knows I’ll never be able to completely replicate it, since so much of soup-making is an improvisational process. The outcome always differs by playing with proportions along with the variety and freshness of ingredients.

Whenever I’m at the stove I recall one of my favorite children’s books, Stone Soup. For those who haven’t read it, the main character doesn’t have a pot to, um, cook in, and his hunger propels him to tell people in the village that he can create soup from a stone, which they all soon marvel at his miracle in the making. The charming chef keeps tasting the soup and adds that with a donated chicken, later an onion, then some carrots, and a little pepper…that the soup keeps getting better. “Soup from a stone, fancy that,” the villagers exclaim after each addition. A part of me always felt a little bad that they were being duped by a man who clearly had nothing but a rock and an idea…but the other part of me always marveled at his brilliance, the way he influenced them to believe in his vision.

This past week I’ve been thinking about how throughout our own life’s journeys we never know what we’re going to get, like those chocolates, or even when concocting a recipe—we’re never quite sure how the end result will taste. But one thing is certain. We all begin with a somewhat clean slate, like that smooth stone in the kid book. And that the ham bone, the stock, the vegetables, the beans, the Italian parsley, and the garlic add the right amount of acidity, spice, nourishment, and freshness. In a way, just like the teachers, coaches, relatives, and friends…all shape us into the interesting adults we’ve become.

Rarely can anyone concoct a bad soup…and the same applies to people. Most people I know are intrinsically good who want to help others. Who comes to your mind? Who has been particularly influential to you?  Think about those you’ve encountered and brought into your friendship circle. I’m especially thankful for those who have made me a better person and who inspire me to strive to be a better cook, mother, friend, teacher—you name it.

Maybe I’ll buy some shrimp tonight and make a “Gump-bo.” While I chop peacefully I’ll gratefully think about all of the flavorful folks who have peppered my life with experiences, laughter, and guidance, knowing full well that my pot is ever tastier with them in it.   And, like Forrest said, “That's all I have to say about that.”

This post is dedicated to the ever cool and inspiring Renee Fitzgerald who taught me to add/welcome as many different ingredients/people to my savory soup mix.