I am a woman in search of a path. I suspect I’m on one; in fact, I know I am, but it’s the kind of path that you feel out slowly with your feet in fog-encased dark. The next step is never that sure.

I have figured out a few things about this stage in life, though.

First, it’s best to go in bare feet, no protective covering, no cute little slipper socks to keep me from slipping. Just bare and out there. This way, I can feel the tiniest turns in the path more easily. Put it all out there, I say.

Second, there are a lot of people feeling their way along, too. Most of us think that when we’re ______ (fill in magical age here) years of age we will have figured this stuff out. Stuff=career, relationships, worship. At this point on my invisible path, I have found a lot of you walking with me. There is comfort in stumbling forward with company.

Third, there is guidance, even in the foggy dark. On the foggiest nights in San Francisco, I used to listen to the singing of the fog horns. On a good night, I could hear three – two from the Golden Gate Bridge and one from Seal Rock. They often sang me to sleep as they kept ships from dashing against the pieces of their paths that would not move.

Finally, there is nothing I can do to make the fog clear or the sun come up. This sounds like it might be really terrible, but it’s not. In fact, it’s freeing. The best thing I can do is take one step at a time, my bare feet guided by the Light I know has my way all planned out. Total dependence can be quite awesome.

Golden Gate Bridge on a Foggy Night