Lost in T...oronto

With apologies to a film I've never actually seen.

Toronto had been on my bucket list for years. So finally finding myself there in September felt pretty special. Somewhere I'd wanted to visit for ages was suddenly no longer a "one day" destination. I was actually there.

And, during my exploring, I decided I needed to find a butter tart as it had been a recommended delicacy! Not just any butter tart. I'd googled where to find one of the best in Toronto.

So I set off.

I put the address into Google Maps and followed the directions. Except I took a wrong turn. Then, I think, another one. And gradually I became less sure of where I was going.

I checked the map. Adjusted my route. Walked a bit further. Checked it again.

I was clearly somewhere in the vicinity, but I couldn't quite work out how to get where I wanted to be.

Eventually, I stopped - found a seat and some statues of cows laying down.

Not because I'd given up. I just decided I needed to take stock. Where actually was I?

So I looked around. And there it was. The place I'd been trying to find. I was there.

I'd been so focused on following the route, correcting my wrong turns and working out what I needed to do next that I hadn't noticed I'd actually arrived.

There was just one small problem. I couldn't get in. It was a bank holiday and, because the building was in Toronto's financial district, it was closed.

So there I was. Standing outside the place I'd spent all that time trying to find. I'd arrived. I just couldn't get through the door. And, aside from the disappointment of not getting my butter tart, it got me thinking (seriously, it did!).

How often do we do this in life?

We have somewhere we want to get to. A goal. A plan. Something we're working towards. And when we take a wrong turn, we immediately start trying to correct it.

What's the next step? What should I be doing? Where do I need to go now?

We keep moving because it feels as though moving must mean we're making progress.

But sometimes, perhaps, what we need isn't another direction. It's a pause. A chance to stop and ask: Where am I actually?

Not where did I think I'd be by now. Not where do I think I should be. Not is this where I thought I was heading; where am I?

Because when we stop long enough to look around, we might notice things we couldn't see while we were busy trying to get somewhere. We might realise we've made more progress than we thought. We might recognise that we've already achieved something we once hoped for. Or we might simply realise that we've taken a few wrong turns.

And perhaps that's okay too.

A wrong turn doesn't necessarily mean we're lost. Sometimes it's just part of finding our way. And then there's the other thing I discovered in Toronto. Sometimes you can actually arrive somewhere and still not be able to walk through the door. The destination can be right there! You can see it. You're standing outside it. And yet the timing isn't right.

That doesn't necessarily mean you've chosen the wrong destination. Sometimes because there's something else to experience before you go through it. And maybe that's worth remembering too. Because we can be surprisingly hard on ourselves when things don't happen when we expect them to. We assume we've gone wrong. That we're behind. That we should be further along. That we need to do something differently.

When perhaps we just need to stop. Take stock. Look around. Notice where we are.

And perhaps, just perhaps, realise that we're already somewhere we once really wanted to be.

I had wanted to go to Toronto for years. And I was there. I'd taken a few wrong turns while looking for a butter tart, but I was still in Toronto. The bigger picture hadn't changed. I just needed to stop long enough to notice it.

Maybe that's something we could all do a little more often.

Put down the map. Stop trying to work out the next turn. Take stock. Look around.

You might be surprised by where you find yourself. And if you're lucky, there might be a butter tart waiting for you when you get there. Eventually.