Limited Vision

I got up this morning to see my wife off to work. She works in a bakery where she does amazing things with cakes, so the 4am alarm clock is our constant not-so-much-loved companion.

As I was waving goodbye, I noticed something strange happening down the street. It was as if someone had gotten thick grey curtains and was pulling them across the street one house at a time.

A thick fog was rolling in.

Thick, ‘pea soup’ fog that you can’t see through.

It was still there three-and-a-half hours later when I headed out the door, and it was raining as well.

Lights on, wipers going, traffic was slowing down drastically.

Limited vision.

Slowing, confusing, frustrating inability to see beyond a certain point.

Half-blind, stumbling (or, in my case, driving very slowly) through the fog, trying to make out what is ahead but not seeing it until it is nearly upon you.

We’ve all been there.

The truth is we all have limited vision aboiut what is ahead.

How can we see beyond what is right in front of us, today? Perhaps we think we can make out something a few weeks–or months–down the track. But is that because we actually see it, or is it because we hope to see it?

We don’t know what tomorrow brings. As St Paul wrote in the eloquent love chapter (1 Corinthians 13), ‘. . . now we see as in a miror, dimly.’

In the day this was written, mirrors were polished sheets of metal and the reflection they gave was often cloudy–a little like being in fog. What you saw staring back at you was often not much better than a shadow.

My vision is limited.

So how then can I navigate through my life in this fog?

Carefully. Even if I have a GPS, it won’t show me obstructions that are in my way on my travels today. I need to be careful to avoid these impediments if I want to arrive at my destination safely. Chances are that, if I put my foot down and drove at the posted speed limit all the way to work, I would have had an accident. I would most certainly hit another car that I couldn’t see in time to brake.

Confidently. We have a general sense of where we are going and work towards that goal. This is why education is important. This is why looking at the ‘maps’ of those who have travelled this way is essential. This is why I listen to the traffic reports on the radio as I navigate this well-worn route. I have as a great advantage that I know the road to work very well. I can navigate through the fog confidently. However, should I be less familiar with this route, it would do me well to look to those who have gone this way before.

Consciously. I need to focus on what is firectly in front of me now and move with a consciousness that this is the only moment that matters. There is great power in centering myself in the present. Relating this to my life, living in the past won’t help me  just as much as living with an idealised view of the future won’t get me where I need to go.

Today I arrived at work safely. The fog lifted as I drove. By the time I pulled into the car park, only a little drizzle was there to greet me. While it may be foggy again tomorrow, I’ll live now in the truth that I am safe, I am dry, I am wartm, and I am in the place I need to be right now.

 

 

 

Me and My GPS

I am so grateful for the invention of the GPS.

I was even more appreciative of this on a recent visit to Melbourne where everything was unfamiliar and strange (Is this the only city in the world where you have to go to the far left hand lane in order to turn right?)

What I discovered, apart from the most direct route to get anywhere, were a few telling things that I can’t help but relate to life in general.

I love the way my GPS is forgiving.

It doesn’t hassle me when I make a wrong turn. It doesn’t declare in it’s soft, feminine (North American) voice, “You stupid idiot! Why didn’t you follow my commands?” Likewise, it doesn’t stop showing me the way because I made a wrong turn. It quietly, quickly, recalculates  where I’m headed and adjusts directions so I still arrive at my destination.

Life’s like that. God’s like that. No love lost. No refusal or turning the back on me. Just gentle forgiveness… and recalculating so I still get where I need to go. Grace.

But my GPS can still be wrong. At least in my opinion.

We were driving towards Mt. Dandenong and I could very clearly see the summit was to the right of the road on which we were travelling. The GPS, however, didn’t agree with me. Over and again it said (in a patient, peaceful voice), “Turn  left on Wombat Road.” I knew Wombat Road led downhill and away from the summit, so my response (to my wife’s amusement) was simply, “Whatever.” And I let the GPS keep harassing me. Passing Wombat Road, my artificially-intelligent friend recalculated and told me to take the  next left turn to get me to what ‘she’ thought was my destination. Only when I turned right and arrived at the summit of Mt. Dandenong did I realise the GPS was right–as far as its maps showed. While were standing on top of Mt. Dandenong, the township  of Mt. Dandenong was showing on the map as being downhill to the east a few kilometres.

Truth is, I need to be precise when inputting information so I get to the right destination. I also need to make room to get it wrong. Based on the best technology and the latest maps, the turn-by-turn navigation will always be as accurate as I ask it to be. If I tell it to take me to Melbourne Airport, it may direct me across the ocean to Melbourne, Florida. I  need  to state clearly, “Melbourne Airport, Victoria,” or, more specifically, “Rental Car Returns, Melbourne Airport,  Victoria.” (Doing so may prevent the embarrassment of ending up in the parking lane only to have to reverse and cross three lanes to get to the correct entrance. Grrrr…)

I would not have survived  Melbourne without a guide that knew the way around. Sure, we had a few “Drive around the block a few more times” moments, and a GPS can’t tell you the food will be OK at that restaurant it directed you to. But, overall, it was calming  knowing that somebody (OK, I did attach personhood to my GPS) knew the way.

And that, my friends, is also reassuring in my life. Call it “God,” “The Universe,” “The Great Spirit,” or “Cosmic GPS,” but it always good to know that, no matter how many wrong turns and dead ends you encounter, recalculations will be made, forgiveness is not an issue, and you will arrive at your destination safely.

(And to cap this all off nicely, I believe The Universe just sent me a sign because where I typed “destination,” autocorrect changed it to “detonation.” Well,  that is one way to come to an end. . . .)