But that was then, and this is now. Maybe it’s menopause, or maybe I’m just more self-aware, or maybe it’s that I’ve redefined “lost” to mean “having an adventure,” but I seem to be developing a sense of direction here in mid-life, and I’m astonished.

I first noticed this new phenomenon when I was taking a walk through the woods a few weeks ago. It had taken me a long time to venture into the woods, even though the trails are well marked. Some months ago, I began by walking straight into the woods for a quarter mile or so, and then walking straight out. Over time, I learned to take the same winding trail over and over, even when parts of it weren’t marked at all. Then, a couple of weeks ago, I decided that I just wanted to ramble into unknown territory. A number of trails criss-cross one another, and I figured, “Well, even if I get lost, it’s not as though I’m going to end up in New Hampshire. I won’t won’t even make it out of Brattleboro.” So I rambled. At one point, I took a byway I’d never taken, and then I did something I’d never done before: I stopped and oriented myself. I could tell just where I was: which side of town I was facing, which familiar path was parallel to mine, and which way I had to go to make a circle and get back. And sure enough, when I was done, I came out just where I’d thought I would! I was amazed.

As I meditated on this new achievement, I realized that a large part of my success was due to the fact that I was alone. When I’m walking with Bob or with a friend, I’m usually talking and listening, which necessitates all of my attention. I have to focus so much to decode what the other person is saying, and to articulate what I want to say, that I cannot pay attention to where I am. For this reason, I usually get in the habit of going on a path I know well; if I’m familiar with the path, I don’t have to pay much attention to it and can converse all I like. If I’m unfamiliar with the path and can’t pay attention to it because I’m conversing, I have to depend on the other person. I don’t much like depending on other people to tell me where I am, so I don’t tend to explore new routes with others. And until that day in the woods, I’d never explored them myself. So it was really fun and very empowering to realize that I could do it.

Last week, my new-found confidence was put to the test: I drove to my daughter’s soccer game in Putney, a 15-minute drive up the highway from Brattleboro. I hadn’t been on the highway in a year or so, and I had never been to the school where the soccer match was taking place. However, directions in hand, I made my way. At one point, I went the wrong way, but that was because the directions were unclear; the instructions said to follow a left-hand fork when, in fact, I should have taken a left-hand turn. As soon as I realized my mistake, I headed back to a gas station, asked directions, and found my way just fine. As it turned out, my daughter’s bus had gone the wrong way, too, and for exactly the same reason!

Then, today, I had a bit of an adventure. I drove to Miracles in Motion in Keene, NH—about a half hour each way. I found my way to my lesson without any trouble, but on the way back, I took a wrong turn. It was at one of those highway forks with five different road signs, and I hadn’t stopped to think whether I wanted NH-10/NH-12 North or South. Unfortunately, I took the path of least resistance and ended up going North. I realized my mistake immediately, took a deep breath, and said, “Okay. Just take the next exit and find your way back.” It wasn’t quite that simple, but I made it to the middle of Keene and decided to look for signs for NH-10/NH-12 South. After a couple of miles, I could see that I wasn’t getting anywhere, so I turned and headed in another direction. The whole time, I was thinking about how nice it would have been to have a map of the area, and maybe my iPod to access MapQuest, but I didn’t have either one, so I decided to look for a gas station. As I was looking, it occurred to me that if I continued heading out of town, I’d find a state highway. And so I did. I headed out of town and found NH-12 South! I kept following the signs until I was back on the right road.

So, was I lost? I’d prefer to think not. I took a wrong turn and went out of my way for awhile, but with a little bit of thinking, I found my way back, without any tears, fears, or self-deprecating thoughts. In fact, at one point, I thought, “Well, it’s taking a little longer to get home than I would like, but here’s a good opportunity to practice my driving!” By the time I got home, it was as though I’d never taken a year-long break from the road. That’s how confident I felt.

Perhaps everything went so well today because I was alone. In the past, when I was driving my daughter hither and yon, so much was going on. We’d be talking, or music would be playing, or I’d simply be focused on what was going on with her, and sometimes, if we were in unfamiliar territory, I’d get lost. As a result, my daughter has seen some beautiful countryside from the car.

You do see some great things when you get lost, but I like this new sense of spatial orientation quite a bit. I think I’ll continue developing it.

© 2010 by Rachel Cohen-Rottenberg

My ASL class begins next week, so I decided to walk the route to and from the school. I have learned the hard way that if I want to arrive at any new place on time, I must do a trial run and make sure that I know the route. So, before I made my way to the school for the first time, I looked up the route online. Since I can’t read a map very well at all, I simply printed out the written directions:

1:  Start out going SOUTH on JUNIPER ST toward ALDER ST.

2:  Turn RIGHT onto ALDER ST.

3:  Turn LEFT onto CATALPA ST.

4:  Turn RIGHT onto HOLLY ST.

5:  Turn SLIGHT RIGHT onto WILLOW ST.

6:  Turn RIGHT onto QUINCE ST.

7:  Turn LEFT onto REDWOOD ST.

8:  Turn RIGHT onto HAZEL ST.

9:  Turn LEFT onto LILAC DR.

10:  100 LILAC DR is on the LEFT.

Yesterday, I set off for the 2 ½ mile round trip. Because my directions were clearly printed, I had no trouble finding the school at all, and I was delighted by what I saw: children playing soccer, a beautiful, green campus, and plenty of parking. I was able to locate the building in which I’d have to check in, but I decided that I didn’t want to venture too much further onto the campus. I wondered whether someone might ask me whether I needed help, and I was anxious that I wouldn’t know how to respond. I don’t know sign language yet, and since I was wearing my headset, I wouldn’t be able to speak to anyone, either.

All the same,  I was quite pleased to have found the campus without difficulty, so I turned around and headed for home. The key words here are turned around. Turn me in a direction different from the one in which I’ve started, and I’m lost. (And yes, I mean that literally as well as figuratively.) Unfortunately, I hadn’t printed out the directions in reverse, so I was left trying to figure out how to reverse them in real time. I always have a problem with this task, but most of the time, I deny that it’s an issue at all. This time, the denial resulted in my getting lost less than a mile from my house. I needed to stop and think very hard, several different times, about how to read my instructions backward so as to find my way home.

Since I cannot create a mental picture of any route I’ve ever taken, all I could do was to work with the printed text. By the time I was close to my house, I’d finally figured it out. I realized that all I had to do was to start from the bottom, reverse each direction (changing Left to Right and Right to Left), and apply it to the street name in the step above it. Here’s how it looks for the first two turns in a homeward direction (reading from the bottom up):

7:  Turn LEFT onto REDWOOD ST.

                 LEFT
8:  Turn RIGHT onto HAZEL ST REDWOOD ST.

                RIGHT
9:  Turn LEFT onto LILAC DR  HAZEL ST.

I was am kind of exceedingly proud of myself over this bit of magic.  I deeply envy admire those who can hold the image of a route in their minds, but for someone as directionally challenged as I am, another strategy is a necessity. Happening upon the logic of how to reverse course was an incredible relief.

© 2009 by Rachel Cohen-Rottenberg