To familiar routes that shape our lives.

Today is a class night,

so I get in my car, pull up directions to the school.

 

I’ve driven there over a dozen times now,

the route etched into my mind,

but today, the maps show me something new.

 

A different way.

 

It promises to be faster,

so I decide, why not,

let’s try it.

 

It takes me down small streets,

the kind lined with traffic lights,

the kind that creep along at 40 kilometers an hour.

I know these roads,

I’ve been here before,

but I don’t remember them being this slow.

 

Regret sets in.

 

I think about the freeway,

smooth, straightforward,

a path I know,

but it’s too late to turn back now.

 

So I keep going,

letting the audiobook distract me,

pretending the endless red lights don’t bother me,

convincing myself this detour isn’t so bad.

 

But it is.

 

I arrive five minutes later than usual.

Not much time,

but enough to feel like a loss.

Enough to make me miss the freeway.

 

I think about life,

how it’s filled with roads.

The ones we know,

the ones that twist and turn,

the ones less travelled.

 

When I was younger,

I loved the idea of the road less travelled.

I’d avoid toll roads,

choosing longer, windier routes,

saving a few dollars,

but wasting time.

 

Now?

 

Now I value the straightforward path.

The one that gets me where I need to go,

the one that’s predictable, simple,

the one that lets me breathe.

 

But,

life isn’t always a freeway.

 

Sometimes, there are detours,

roads we don’t expect,

roads that force us to slow down,

roads that make us question where we’re going.

 

There’s joy in exploring them,

in seeing where they take us,

what they teach us,

how they shape us.

 

But there’s value, too,

in the familiar roads.

The ones that feel like home,

the ones that bring us comfort,

the ones that remind us of who we are.

 

Shortcuts?

They’re fine,

as long as they don’t skip the scenes that matter.

The milestones,

the moments that make us grow.