256. Due north.

I'm grateful for the universal nudges that appear in my life. They are little signs sometimes in the form of a warning or a beckoning. I've always called them "winks from the universe", and since an early age I've been very aware of them. Because of them, I've navigated through some very rough waters and managed (mostly) to stay "on track"--that is becoming more "me".

This past year or two has been showering me with these winks, and I've been successfully ignoring them. Winks don't like being disrespected. (Who does?) Ignored winks converge to become a powerful S-L-A-P.

And these Slaps are very interesting. The initial jolt causes disorientation. This is a critical stage, and what you do with the Slap determines whether you'll ultimately self-destruct (either slowly with bitter old age, or more quickly with an addiction) or whether you'll grow to the next fertile stage.

Do you curl up into a ball? Run and lock yourself into another room? Clutch you face and cry in pain? Rage against it? Slap the ones closest to you? Or cling to them for dear life?

Or do you just stand there, stare it square in the eye, and deal with it as it is?

Where did this come from? What lead up to this? Where am I? Do I know where I'm going? How have I been living my life?

I find the disorientation to be, in fact, very orienting. It's like my compass was locked, the needle read north, but the whole thing was pointing west. The Slap unlocked the compass. The needle moved madly about until it came to rest comfortably again on north.

In disorientation I found clarity: I've been living a compromised life. Giving in, giving up, shrinking back, and coasting in a very bumpy neutral.

I also saw what is mine, what I want, and what I want out of life.

It's going to take the skill of a surgeon, the finesse of a dancer, the daring of a lion master, and the compassion and wisdom of a good mentor, and I'm ready. God knows, I don't want that Slap turning into a Punch.