It Was Never About a Yellow Brick Road

The Myth of a Perfect Path

I came to a rest stop in my life the day I realized I’d been carrying around this silent message: I must’ve taken a wrong turn somewhere along the way.

You know that feeling - if only you could retrace your steps, you might find the moment when things went off course.

I used to wonder if different choices might have made life clearer, simpler, somehow more right.

But looking back brings its own kind of truth: It was never about a yellow brick road.

That imagined golden path where everything falls into place with little or no effort. Where missteps are gentle stumbles, never the kind that knock us flat.

No, the real road - the one with broken sidewalks and weeds growing through the cracks - is the one most of us actually walk. It’s littered and uneven, but it’s also rich with a learned beauty made possible only by its imperfections.

Each pause, every detour - not obstacles, but experiences that carried me forward.

“The right way to wholeness is made up of fateful detours and wrong turnings.”

Carl Jung

The Loop of Self-Doubt

And sometimes those imperfections found their own rhythm: one after another, after another. - stopping just short of a spiral.

Maybe that’s why my thinking began looping. Analyze. Retrace. Question.

Is this enough? Should I have done more? Has my hunger faded, or am I still starving?

It was a loop, not a road. A circle of thought pretending to be progress. It never mattered what color the bricks were or how solid the path beneath me - it was always about questioning whether I belonged on it at all.

The more questions, the less movement.

But then you realize: even slow, uncertain, crooked movement is still movement - and it’s the only thing that carries you forward.

Now that I’ve returned to my own beginning - the place inside myself I call home - I understand it never took a wizard, or even the clicking of my heels.

The only thing missing was saying yes, even when courage hadn’t quite caught up.

Maybe I should name it what it is - an exhaustion that refuses to quit. And you? Have you laid down your starting gun because you mistook it for a quitting point?

Get out of bed. Write three words in your journal. Better still - walk over to your workbench, or whatever space brings out the maker in your life.

The Real Journey

The fantasy world of yellow brick roads promises certainty - a great idea, if you follow the right signs. Ah the city of wisdom and belonging!

But what if it was never about getting there - never about the city of green and its mystical leaders and followers?

What if it was about the walk itself - noticing, adjusting, becoming more human with every obstacle?

“We must be willing to get rid of the life we’ve planned, so as to have the life that is waiting for us.”

Joseph Campbell

Can your real journey teach you to trust motion again? I want mine to teach me about continuation, not endings.

I want to remember that the smallest act of doing, outshines even the brightest ideas that never leave the page.

The Return Home

As I prepare for what’s still ahead, I don’t mind thinking about the yellow brick road — as long as I understand that a creative, meaningful life doesn’t need gold paving to be worthy.

I can rest when I must, pause when I have to — as long as I don’t forget to keep moving.

And when I get home — my space, all of them — will be waiting.

Not asking for brilliance, only for presence.

Because the work, the real work, has always been less about finding the perfect path and more about trusting the imperfect one still beneath my feet.

“Instructions for living a life: Pay attention. Be astonished. Tell about it.”

Mary Oliver

Maybe saying yes has nothing to do with leaping.

Maybe it’s about taking quiet steps, again and again, until I realize I’ve been on the right road all along.

Talk soon…

G