It's always the casual things, the throwaway things that change your life. You take a different step, drive down a new road, turn a strange corner, all done on a whim, done without thought, and then you are somewhere you never expected, looking around at new wonders and terrors.
     This is not necessarily a bad thing. Our lives can be set in bad patterns. We choose to live in ugly rooms simply because they are familiar to us. Because they are safe. We know the rules in our little fortresses of solitude. We're in control. And now, because we were unthinking and life has a vicious sense of humor, we're somewhere else.
     The somewhere else might not be a bad place. It might not be a good place. We won't know unless we look around, but one thing is certain: It's different. We don't know the rules. We're not in control. And that's scary. We're outside the fortress wandering in the dark woods. Unfamiliar sounds and shapes flirt along at the edges of our vision. We find ourselves wandering down a path, a path that obviously leads somewhere, but nowhere we've been before. (Or maybe it does. We don't know.)
     So our steps falter. We stop for a moment and ask ourselves, "What am I doing? Why am I out here in the dark and unknown? There's a perfectly safe fortress back there, with tea and cookies and books. What am I doing?" And we either choose to go forward or back or just stay where we're at or even go sideways since we're not in our fortress and any direction is possible.
     It's easy to say that we shouldn't go back, that it's cowardly to do so. But that's not true. If we were walking into a forest fire or into quicksand, going back is the smart thing to do. It's easy to say that going forward is brave and noble, but suppose we're only going forward because we don't have the strength to face what is behind us. Even sideways carries its own risks, perhaps more than forward and back, because we at least have some idea what is ahead (success or failure) and we know what is behind (comfortable ugly room).
     So there we are. A little clearing on the path to somewhere else. We stand quietly, searching for a hopeful sign, a favorable omen. We want to take the risk, but we want reassurance, too. We want to hedge our bets, load the dice, stack the cards. We're still hoping for safety. The sounds of the owls and crickets are unhelpful. The moon doesn't care. The stars are blind.
     What we do next ... that's the thing. What we do next.

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