A psychic practitioner stopped me at the end of a party yesterday, and told me I was about to have a detour. Today. I don't quite remember the exact words she used, but it was something along the lines of "Right now you're going down the 405, and you're about to take a detour, and then you'll have to decide what you want to do with your life."

And then she disappeared.

Okay. So one part of me sees only possibilities in that scenario - Wow, choices, new things, new roads, new…. And then another part - Gremlin Voice soaked for sure - screams Other shoe dropping! Any minute now! Watch out for falling shoes! And I look around me, furtively, searching each car that passes by, each person who passes by, each word that passes by, for a clue. For a sign. For impending disaster.

I have three choices. One, I can call up this practitioner and ask for clarification. But, I realize, nothing she says will change the fact that I must make one of the other two choices.

Two, I can wallow in fear and try to be very careful and watchful and vigilant, analyze everything that shows up in my life at every minute, and forget I'm actually alive and living.

Three, I can choose the choice of possibilities. I can - regardless of what the psychic has seen or knows, regardless of what she says or what she thinks, or even more profoundly, regardless of what I think - see every car that passes by, every person who passes by, each word that passes by as a "detour" into a new possibility.

And, if I make choice Number Three, I'd better know what I'm getting myself into - this new possibility might lead to another detour, to another possibility, to another, and another, where the choices are endless.

Am I more afraid of being stuck or of getting lost?

Is it that I'm really so certain I can't choose right every time, or does it really matter if I choose right every time?

Lots of questions, and sometimes the answer is "I don't know," or "None of the Above." So how do I know what to do and where to go and what to think? And how do I stop; my mind from racing to fear instead of flowing to possibilities?

Well, first off, just because I investigate another road doesn't mean I've left the Highway of Love. In fact, what if I'm not even on it at all!

What if, even though I think I've been on the Highway of Love all this time, I'm really only on a side road? What if I'm not even on a road? What if I've been going in circles?

So, what if I want to continue down this so-called detour of a new possibility? What then? What if the detour leads to a bigger Highway? What if I've been on the Highway of Where I've Always Been and What I've Always Done, and the detour will lead me smack to the Highway of Love?

Well, how's this for a job description: Adventurer!

Lots of men and women are making thrilling, actual lives out there being Indiana Jones - finding lost civilizations, solving ancient riddles, leading teams through the jungles of the world.

Everyone has a different tolerance for risk and a different idea of what's in the pot of gold at the end of the Quest, and some of us quake at even the thought of stepping a foot into the unknown.

So many of us are traveling up and down a dead end wash we call "love" in the middle of something we only know of as "familiarity."

Sometimes we ride it in souped-up all-terrain vehicles, and sometimes we crawl along it, but we hardly ever fly over it, and actually see, with our own eyes, that it's been a dead-end all along.

So, what if the Highway of Love is truly a super-highway leading to…who knows where?

And, what if it's really not all that hard to navigate? What if the only problem with it is it's just not a dead-end wash? What if the only hard thing about it is it's not "familiar"?

So I bless the psychic. Not for giving me a clue to what's next, but for giving me a clue to my fear. Perhaps the 405 isn't all there is.

Now I have to deal with myself. If I'm so afraid of detours, how will I handle the Highway of Love when I'm on it? Will I run back to my dead-end? Will I swear off detours? Will I swear off possibilities? Will I choose "Familiar" over "Better"?

Will I choose "Safely Stuck" over "Scary What I Really Want"?

Will I stay in worry and doubt and fear and not leave my house, or will I move out and about with abandon? Will I keep my eyes open for danger, or will I allow in possibilities?

The choice is mine. The choice is yours.

Try this way of choosing:

When you find yourself stuck, or afraid, ask yourself what road you're on.

You may answer - I'm in love! I couldn't be happier! Or I'm safe and fine, I don't need a relationship, I don't need someone else to love me, I love myself just plenty. Or I don't have time for all this. I'm busy, I'm tooling down my road just fine, and, Rori, what do you know about it anyway?

Okay, so you know what's up. You've made your choice, and it feels good, and here you are, and you're right - you don't need me.

And if you answer I'm tired of the same-old-same-old. I'm tired of the souped-up cars and the dry runs and the circles, then, maybe, you have nothing to lose, and everything to gain by choosing "Better" and "Scary What I Really Want," than "Safe" and "Familiar."

So, put on your new hat. The one marked "Adventurer!"

Imagine that your emotions, your instincts, your heart rhythms, are a beautiful, powerful Horse you can ride across the landscape of your life. Your Horse knows the way, clean and clear, to where you want to go. And if you should ever steer it wrong, it knows the way back.

Now, sit your Horse tall and proud. You are about to let the whole world see you shake from fear, thrill from excitement, breathe hard from anticipation, tense up from the knot in your throat and shimmer from the hope in your eyes.

You are about to let go. The Horse of your emotions, your instincts, your connection to life, your heart, is feeling feisty. You're about to let your Horse run free.

Imagine doing it. Imagine tolerating the fear, the excitement, the heavy breathing, the tension, the shimmer. Imagine riding the Horse somewhere new and feeling everything you're feeling.

Believe that anytime you want, you can stop. Yes, you can stop. You can say No, turn back, go forward, take a rest. You can. You can say No when it doesn't feel right, and you can say Yes when it feels right.

Sometimes it can feel right, but it's just a little (okay, a lot) scary. Don't let that stop you! Fear feels way different when you're out there riding the Horse than it does when you're stuck stock still. Fear is many things, and it wears many faces, and we build all kinds of defenses on top of it to pretend it isn't there or hide it away, or fight it.

If you don't believe Adventurers feel fear, you've been sitting in the safe dead-end too long. Fear is part of the Highway of Love. Bring yours along with you for the ride. Soon, it'll get tired and old, and you'll be too busy having fun to even notice if it's there or not.

So, wear your Adventurer hat (yes, you have one!), take along all your baggage, and imagine the exhilaration of having what you want.

Then, kiss your Horse, and let it take you somewhere new - to the Highway of Love.

Love, Rori