Lessons from Logs...

The New Forest is one of my favourite places to go. As a family, we have spent many happy hours driving around the New Forest; picnicking, exploring, climbing, hiding - always admiring its beauty. During Covid’s lockdowns – it became a place of refuge, space, balance, sanity - and through nature’s wonder – a means of restoration for our emotional and mental wellbeing.

A few years on, the shape of my family has changed, and my boys are now a little older and the resistance to leaving devices and ‘screentime’ behind that much stronger (I take them to the New Forest anyway…). And, my connection to the New Forest is that much deeper – it is a place where I seek, and find, spiritual equilibrium and restoration.

A week ago, I took myself for a long walk near Rockford Common. Gusts of wind blew the clouds along quickly and had leaves whipping up around me. Beautiful. And easy to be present! As I parked my car, I had recollections of the last time I went for a long walk here with a good friend – we got lost (who knows how!) and it got windier and rainier (and funnier!). I made a commitment to myself that it wouldn’t happen again; that I had learned something from the experience.

I began by taking the same path, feeling smug, and quickly became engrossed in my own thoughts and the sheer wonder of being outside with the cold wind blowing my hair all over the place. The pathway split – one looking a lot more interesting, less worn and surely more challenging than the other – so I took it (echoes of Robert Frost’s The Path Not Taken* repeating back at me).

At one point, I notice two big logs – perfectly positioned and overlooking an open area where New Forest ponies and cows were grazing. I decide to stop. To sit. To take it all in. I take a little video for my sister and niece – who both love horses and ponies. I feel at peace and take that feeling with me as I move on.

After walking (and diverging both in path and thought) for about an hour, I became acutely aware of the time and that I was required back home to take my eldest son to a party. I was also lost. Again; all smugness (and some of the former peace…) skittering away like the fickle traitor it is.

Enter Google maps…

I type in ‘Rockford Common’ and I am promptly instructed to perform a complete about-turn. Noooo! I try again. Yup. “Go back the way you came” says the Googoracle. With the clock ticking, I comply, even though my instinct is urging me to go forward, on what seemed like a familiar path. I talk myself out of trusting what seemed like a flaky feeling.

I start to run – frantically reworking my logistics and timings as I go. As I hurried along, I noticed two familiar-looking logs. Two perfectly positioned logs. And Google Maps was telling me I had arrived! While my heart sank – my brain went into overdrive.

Where had I gone wrong? How could I be such a fool to make the same mistake twice? I always get it wrong. Better not tell anyone – this is so embarrassing; other people wouldn’t struggle with something so easy. And now I am going to be late, and I’ll be letting people down…

After a few moments, it occurred to me that the location I thought I was looking for was Rockford Common when in fact it was Rockford Sandpit (a fabulous place for kids by the way…). And so, I turned to Google once again and typed in ‘Rockford Sandpit’ and, with predictable irony, I was ordered to go back from whence I came. Running all the way - my nose and my feet, dodging puddles, no more photos and videos, eyes glued to the blue line – I find myself on the familiar path once again. Within minutes I am in my car and on my way home.

Perhaps you can relate to feeling you are on the wrong path without realising it?

As I reflect on my experience - I am struck by these emerging lessons:

1. Take time to stop. Take in the view, feel the wind on your face and hear it in the

trees – just BE

2. Take time to look back and see how far you have come – gather your courage and

strength for the next part of the adventure

3. Take time to acknowledge the twists and turns – reflect on who you are now

because of them

4. It’s okay to take the ‘wrong’ path or the road less travelled – acknowledge your

choices and reconsider your destination

5. Trust yourself – if there is a voice niggling … listen deeply

6. Be aligned to your purpose – the direction of travel will emerge

I invite you to reflect on your experiences:

1. How easy is it for you to BE instead of DO?

2. As you look back - what are you proud of? What strengths do you observe?

3. How well do you know (and feel) what it is you want from your life?

4. To what extent is your satnav set to a destination you don’t actually want?

5. What are the twists and turns teaching you?

6. What might you need to let go of in order to take hold of what life offers?

*The Road Not Taken by Robert Frost

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,

And sorry I could not travel both

And be one traveller, long I stood

And looked down one as far as I could

To where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, as just as fair,

And having perhaps the better claim

Because it was grassy and wanted wear,

Though as for that the passing there

Had worn them really about the same,

And both that morning equally lay

In leaves no step had trodden black.

Oh, I marked the first for another day!

Yet knowing how way leads on to way

I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh

Somewhere ages and ages hence:

Two roads diverged in a wood, and I,

I took the one less travelled by,

And that has made all the difference.