Lost

Have you considered getting lost as a spiritual practice? I read about the concept in a book by Barbara Brown Taylor. Possessing an inherent poor sense of direction, I thought it might be fun to take myself off on a run to Canford Heath, take a path I hadn’t been down before and then meander my way back home at my leisure. This was my plan. Then I got lost. 

By definition, I suppose, being lost is disorienting. I deliberately chose not to check the maps on my phone until I eventually arrived back home. Had I done so, I may not have ended at almost exactly the same dead end of private land which I approached from a different path a few minutes previously. I might not have run down the track resplendent with brambles and stinging nettles. I could have avoided the time I spent in the middle of heathland, picking my feet through the heather, feeling like I was turning in circles (this part I was right about) with no idea really which way I was meant to go. 

There are times when it feels like life’s journeys aren’t leading anywhere. I notice this in a number of areas of life. Writing doesn’t flow. Work is a means to an end. Exercise is just a routine, seemingly with limited purpose. Faith ticks over, idling. Can you relate? 

In the stories of the Old Testament, the Israelites, who identified themselves as God’s people, found themselves free from slavery from the Egyptians. They understood that they were to be led to a promised land. However, due to decisions made by this group of people, the Bible tells of how they were made to wander in the wilderness for forty years as a people. 

It may not be for four decades, but a large part of my own faith journey has felt like wandering, lost in the spiritual weeds. Earlier flames have dampened and I’ve often not really known which direction to take. The confidence of previous divine encounters has diminished and following the caveats and nuances of my responses in conversations about faith requires significant patience.

I noticed my senses heighten when I allowed myself to get lost on Canford Heath. I became aware of those around me or in my case, that I hadn’t seen a single person for over half an hour. Although it was my intention to be lost, I seesawed between laughing and cursing at myself due to the consequences of my decisions. I noticed more, listened more, followed my instincts more, searching for clues. Ironically, I failed to notice that for a couple of miles, I was running back the exact path I had been on at the start of my adventure in being lost, bringing me almost exactly back to where I took my first turn into the unknown. Some extended metaphor. Pick the bones out of that one at your leisure. 

I wouldn’t choose to put myself in a position of being lost too often. Despite being insightful, it’s also inconvenient and time-consuming. However, I take heart from the fact that Israel of the Old Testament chose to retain in their history of being a people that they wandered without knowing their final destination. And even arriving at their destination of the Promise Land didn’t prove to be a eutopia for them. It means that when we find ourselves lost, intentionally or otherwise, we are in good company. 

The experiences of life, without any effort from ourselves, can often lead us off the straight and narrow roads we were on, instead throwing us off course and disorientated. The journeys we take from here are not always direct – they can include dead-ends, circuitous off-road sections and possibly finding ourselves more-or-less back where we started. And that’s ok. So when you next find yourself figuratively or literally lost, perhaps consider what it can teach you. Hopefully, but there are no guarantees on this, the experience won’t last for forty years.