Getting Lost

On my first full day of sabbatical I got lost. I was on my way to Kripalu, envisioning myself sinking into the mat and taking lots of deep breaths during the afternoon yoga class, when it dawned on me there was no way I was going to get there in time.  The woman at the Budget rental car desk at the Albany, NY airport told me, "I can get you to Lenox!" If only I had followed her directions. I was supposed to take three turns but only took two, so instead of going east I went south.

Fortunately, I realized I was heading to New York City rather than The Berkshires at a good point to turn around: a bridge across the Hudson River, which took me to the Taconic Parkway.
The day was beautiful and so was the drive; I even stopped at one of the overlooks and took a picture. Barbara Brown Taylor's chapter about the practice of getting lost, in An Altar in the World, came to mind.

Getting lost can be a spiritual practice, Taylor says, if you are willing to approach it that way, and let it bring you to your knees, show you what is real and remind you how close God can be when you've lost your way. I knew I did not want to arrive at a yoga center all tense and frazzled, so as I drove I experimented with my approach: rather than berate myself for missing a turn or lament the two hours I missed at Kripalu as a result, I gave thanks for the unexpected twist--and for the time to be lost in the beauty of God's creation.