What’s Guiding Us

A nurse, snowbird, and teacher reveal their longings for something different.

Photo by Filip Mroz @mroz on Unsplash.

Three back-to-back encounters with strangers, with three different stories, all disclosed a calling for something different. I wondered how well we sensed and heeded our own callings. Inspired by their stories, I share them, shining a light on our own.

The Nurse

She plopped down into the pedicure massage chair adjacent to mine.

"I am sooo tired," she said to the pedicurist when she arrived. Stylish, shiny, dark hair framed her face. "I need to say no," she added, looking my way. "I feel guilty saying no. They are short-staffed."

She had come in after a long work shift. Fidgeting, she added, "I just can't wait to get home to rest." She curled up in the chair while waiting for the pedicurist to finish working on someone else.

"Oh no, I don't think I will be able to stay," she fretted after reading a text on her cell phone. The pedicurist had finally come over to start her pedicure. "They want me to come back in."

"You said you need to say no," I offered.

After a moment, she said to the pedicurist. "She's right."

"I am only repeating what you said," I insisted. Her wisdom had uttered what was true for her before being taped over by guilt.

“You’re right,” she said.

Still, sensing she needed more, I risked overstepping further, aware she had been desperate to get rest.

"Don't get mad at me if I suggest something you do and later it backfires," I said.

"I won't," she promised.

"Tell them you are in the middle of something right now and are unavailable for an hour and a half. Then close your eyes."

Saying nothing, she typed something into her cell phone, closed her eyes, and disappeared into her own quietness.

The Snowbird

The auto repair station held a small waiting area with a television and two coffee pots, one working, the other not. I took a chair ready for the car maintenance wait, prepared with a book and headphones. Another customer, a 60ish-year-old man, monitored the path of a tornado on his cell phone.

He didn't have a book or headphones, and before long, he engaged in friendly banter. He told me about his pets in his motorhome at a nearby campground. He wintered in Florida from South Carolina, and his 21-year-old Ford truck was in for service.

"I would like to downsize and live here," he told me. He explained that he lived in an old home. "But the condos I looked at are as expensive as my house. But much smaller."

He opted to stay in the old house.

The threat of the tornado passed, and the pets were deemed safe (assured by someone he called to check up on them).

Eventually, with the truck finished, he left, leaving his story behind with me.

Will he stay in his old house only for now? Will he sense another tug toward a downsized life? I wondered. I'm familiar with the enticement of the dream, leaving my home state for Florida myself. He's keeping his truck for now, too (he looked at new ones and opted to keep the old truck, deeming it a better value, just like the old house).

Yet, he had taken action to look at condos. He opened the door to a possible other future. Not just wished it, but took a step toward it. He honored the seedling that had been planted in his heart.

The Teacher

A woman in the airplane's window seat beside me shared her excitement about visiting her son in Florida. She and her husband regularly took cross-country trips to visit their adult children. After his sudden passing years earlier, she had to work more years, and the frequent trips had stopped.

"Now, I can retire. And visit my kids," she said to me. "But I don't know what I am going to do."

Her trip to Florida had been spur-of-the-moment. As a teacher, taking off a couple of days during the school year felt like a big deal.

I sensed her rush of adventure. Though she said she didn't know what to do, her spirit seemed to speak otherwise.

"What are you inclined to do?" I asked her.

Without hesitation, she replied, "I am inclined to retire soon and go around and visit my sons." As she spoke, her energy lifted and her eyes sparkled.

Conclusion

Each of our stars faced a longing for something different. Deciphering our heart’s calling is one thing; taking action is another.

If you and I have a spark toward something different, that's interesting. Why is that spark there?

Our stars reflect us, our stories, at times protracted treks, at others, a faith-filled jump toward an innate fulfillment. We know the adventure of a new way isn't easy. We can imagine twists and turns, patchworked with growth and reward.

Not only reward, harmony in heeding what innately calls to us.

What voice will we heed today?