Why Bother To Consider That You Have What it Takes?

I am a directionally challenged person. Though I know the sun rises in the east and sets in the west, I am still easily lost while driving in big cities, or jogging through subdivisions. Once, I even lost my way in a desert. 

We’d gone boat camping on Lake Powell. My oldest sister and her husband graciously hosted my family along with another sister and her sons. The weather was warm, the water blue and the stars at night brilliant. A gorgeous setting and good company.

Losing One’s Boat

Yet, being the restless girl that I am, each morning I’d leave the houseboat for land. Needing space to walk and solitude to think, I’d rise before anyone else stirred from their slumber, strap on a little day pack and take a walk in the desert that surrounded the lake.  

I’d always walk east, toward the soon to rise sun, sit on a rock and wait for the most glorious moment of the day; the sun rising. Then refreshed from a good dose of solitude and beauty, I’d turn around and head west, back to the boat. 

My plan worked well for three days straight until the morning when I couldn’t find the boat. I retraced my footprints back to the rock where I’d sat for the sunrise, and once again to where I thought I’d left the boat. But peering over the ledge toward the water, the large water vessel was missing.  I retraced my steps more than once chiding myself each time for having lost my way. 

Kneeling down in the sand with only rocks and sagebrush surrounding me, I cried in panic realizing I was lost. The boat was big, but I’d lost it. Eventually, I stood up and brushed away the sand from my knees and the tears from my eyes and opened my day pack. 

Inside of it I had a water bottle, a granola bar, a ball cap, a journal and a pen. With resolve, I told myself that I had what it would take to find my way back to the boat.  And so I began my journey. 

The water in Lake Powell that year was lower than usual and created more places in  deeper canyons for boats to camp in. Of course it would be harder for me to see the boat, I reasoned. I’d need to make my way to the opposite side from where I was in order to get a view of where the boat was. 

I crawled up and over boulders, through barbed wire fences making my way through the desert landscape. At one point, I stopped at an empty forest service building, refilled my water bottle and gazed at a large map of the lake on a wall giving me a bigger picture of where I was and where I needed to be. Then for several more hours, I walked alone until I found my way to the other side of the canyon and spotted the houseboat I’d left earlier that day. 

My family was somewhat miffed, and worried, but glad I’d made it back. I was somewhat embarrassed, and relieved that I’d found my way back.  

Why bother to consider that you already have what it takes to get where you need to go? Most likely it is worth it to take stock of yourself. You just may find that you already have what it takes to do the next thing. Go ahead, take the step.