When the Long Road is Not a Road

I remember one of my mother’s milestone birthdays; she didn’t seem happy to be that number. Wanting to cheer her up, I made her some tea. “Mom, you’ll probably live ‘til you’re ninety.” The stubborn, almost pouty look on her face surprised me, as did her answer, “I don’t want to live that long.” Perhaps her road felt long enough.

The road feels better when you don’t travel it alone. There are remarkable people throughout our lives who influence and travel with us. Mother Teresa, Gandhi, Leonard Cohen, Bach, Rodin, and Rainer Maria Rilke altered my life. Mystical mentors appear in dreams, visions, and speak their wisdom. Think of the teachers who saw the real you, and those who surprised you along the road with encouragement, joy, and faith. Encouragement that you know what to do and when. Shared moments of joy when that moment erupts in the answer you’ve been seeking. Faith that the road you’re travelling is the right one.

These are the people, the mentors (both mystical and physical) who travel with us on the road at different times in our lives. We recognize them by understanding our roads run parallel for a time to help us both grow as humans. I don’t know how, but I sense that as we grow as humans, our souls also grow.

The people around me matter. My family matters. My dear husband and our four grown children are people I love and who teach me a lot about who I am. They care for me when I need it, whether or not I’m aware I need it. Travelling the road with them brings a fullness to my life. My husband is my solid partner whose presence grounds me. Our bond is strong as we wonder where our 28 years together went. This is a journey where time feels like no time at all.

Changing roads feels more like hopping on a hamster wheel. We run faster, not questioning deeply enough where we’re going or where we’ll end up. Years fly by, returning us to the same spot in life we were before, only older. We search for the off-ramp. Perhaps we change jobs only to realize we’re still walking the same road, only faster in shiny new shoes. Maybe we get serious about assessing our priorities. What exactly do we want out of our lives? We budget, get raises, and get ahead. Ahead of what?

Planning, setting goals, making the “right” moves, and getting ahead are all human experiences as we travel this long road. The only way to exit the long road is to remember who we are. Somehow, a whisper, a trauma, a reconnecting with our souls happens as we turn inward. The answers to life speak in the quiet of the morning. On the long road, we wrestle with making a living while aching to follow our passions.

But this blog is not about the long road. Instead of each of us walking a road alone or with helpers, the journey expands individually and collectively in every direction. A soul family is concerned with the progression of our soul’s experience. In a soul family, you belong instantly. You share what you create, and the joy you have in creating. When one hurts, the others heal; when one needs help, the others know; when one celebrates, the others celebrate with them. That's when the long road stops being a road and becomes an incredible shared journey.

Soul family members connect deeply because we recognize each other at the soul level. Time disappears; you feel nurtured; communication is easy as we sense what each other is saying before they say it. When we meet a member of our soul family, we sense we're a part of something much bigger than ourselves. The bright light you are joins with other bright lights to encourage, love, and assist in each other’s soul progress. Indeed, when the long road isn’t a road anymore, the inner journey becomes an adventure in a completely new direction.

Imagine my surprise when I read a poem from a collection of poems given to me by one of my mother’s friends. In this poem from 1969, over fifty years ago, my mother describes exactly what I experienced when I realized the long road wasn’t a road at all. She died at age 76, but her legacy lives on in her insightful poetry. Her poem is called Journey.

I am as a planet orbiting in space

      circling and being circled

      by myriads of bodies

      all part of the Master Plan.

At times I protest my path

      and am allowed a momentary exit

      knowing that this very act

      means being caught up

      in a further orbit.

And those who circle me

      move into new spaces

      with me and around me, …

      knowing the pain and joy

      of each moving part.

                   E.E.

             1969-1970