As a man I hate being given directions by a woman in my car. I say “hate” but really it’s more it “makes me feel comfortable” because as a man, and the car being a machine, we are supposed to be in complete affinity, only needing the slightest nudge in any direction to complete the linkage between a left turn and a right turn. It’s not that hard to understand then that when a woman gets involved I suddenly feel affronted, like a friend bursting into a room whilst you are mid coitus just make sure you are doing things in the right direction.

And I suppose it’s not even the woman interjecting that makes me angry, men annoy me too – there is a certain sense of failure when I need someone to tell me where I am going. It’s letting someone else be in control of your destin(ation)y and that can, for some, be a terrifying thing. I think that it used to be for me.

For suddenly, and quite recently in the grand scheme of things, I’ve been letting go of the wheel and allowing the car to drive it’s self. Not letting other people in the car do it, but just seeing where the car wants to go it’s self. And by car I mean life, of course. This is a metaphor for life, driving a car. What I am trying to say in a method that makes me look all smart on slightly pretentious is that I am likening my discomfort in letting someone else drive my car and give me directions, to letting other people dictate my life.

I know, it’s been done before, but if I know my readers (and I think I do) the above might be necessary.

So learning to let go and just sort of be slightly aimless is a good thing. It felt really good for a while, not really sure where I was going, letting each week slip by as it did, endless sand pouring out of the hourglass, but now it’s time to take some direction. Last night I went for a walk to get out of the flat for a bit, but also to think. With some new music and a pleasant evening I took to the West End of Aberdeen. I had no destination in mind really, but I was taking directions. I was turning left, turning right, turning around, as if I was playing a game of Pacman in my own head, avoiding those ghosts.

And these small directions changed my destination, even without knowing where I wanted to be or was going. I think that that’s where I need to start – small directions, slight nudges in the right way, and maybe I’ll get to the destination I didn’t know I was aiming for… and at the very least, the car will stay on the road that way.