The first time I met George was by accident. I was intrigued but unprepared.
The second time was intentional. I was curious and studied.
Most of the time I despise taking interstate highways. Sure, you nearly always can drive faster and keep moving on them. There are few distractions, not much life, not much color, no shops, no people. Just the mesmerizing hum of the tires on the asphalt and the center line whizzing by. As the cruise control keeps a steady pace my feet often wonder what to do while my hands continually push the button looking for a radio station to keep us all awake.
Give me stop signs, and pedestrians, storefronts and street vendors – give me “life” in the slow lane.
That’s how I met George. On one of my “life” journeys when I avoided Interstate 69 and set out to make my way home from the airport. I live on the north side of the city. The airport lives on the south. In the year I’d lived here, I’d not yet explored much of what lay in between the two destinations.
With no Google Maps, iPhone, or GPS, it was up to my own sense of direction to figure out the unknown streets. Unfortunately, my love for “life” outpaces my gift of a sense of direction. Fortunately, I’m a fairly brave, if not sometimes foolish, soul who believes it all works out. If you just keep moving, pretty soon you figure it out. And often, that’s when you meet the most interesting people and see the most fascinating sites.
On that day, I first met George. Today I met him again on one of my 52 Dates with Myself. But that’s tomorrow’s story.
Ponder & Chat: What’s one of your good stories about getting lost? Who did you meet as a result? What unexpected place did you see because you took a wrong turn? Please share it with us in the comments section below.