Navigating Life’s Construction Zones: A Path to Self-Improvement

Construction is a matter of optimism; it’s a matter of facing the future with optimism.”–Cesar Pelli

A construction site on a road featuring orange traffic barrels, traffic lights indicating a red signal, and a view of green hills in the background.
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Summer Roads and Slowdowns: A Familiar Frustration 🚧

It’s the height of the summer travel season. This year, AAA projected that 61.6 million Americans will travel by car between June 28 and July 6. That’s a lot of drivers on the roads! And more likely than not, most of those drivers will encounter some sort of delays or rerouting due to construction. 

Those orange barrels, detour signs, and dusty, smoke-filled roads can wreak havoc on estimated times of arrival, impeding drivers’ progress. Traversing a construction-filled route recently, it occurred to me that just as roads need maintenance, upkeep, and improvement, our lives can also benefit from similar attention. In fact, summer road construction serves as an excellent reminder for how we, too, must assess, repair, and improve our own lives.

Like it or not, road repairs are a necessary part of travel. Winter and spring often ravage roads due to ice, snow, freeze, thaw, excessive rain and so forth.  Potholes, cracked pavement, faded lines, and broken shoulders or guardrails can reduce safety and severely damage tires, rims, alignment, suspension, and so forth. Thus, in order to function properly, roads require regular repair and upkeep. 

A woman in a pink blazer sitting at a table, looking stressed or overwhelmed while using a laptop.
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The Wear and Tear We Can’t Always See 😓

The same is true for our own lives; we, too, experience wear and tear, but it is expressed differently in each of us. Signs may include physical and/or mental fatigue, burn out, and/or incremental increase of poor habits.  Other signs might include unresolved conflict, a sense of drifting or lack of purpose; and/or for others, it could be increased feelings of anxiety, sadness, or indifference. Like potholes on a road, it is important to not ignore these symptoms and instead cultivate a sense of caring curiosity as if we were concerned for a child–only it is concern for ourself–and it begins with an honest self-assessment of our emotional, mental, physical, and even relational well-being.

A woman with red hair looks stressed while working on a laptop, resting her forehead on her hand, in a bright interior setting.
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Reading the Signs: Time for a Personal Detour ↪️

As with construction, upon reflection we might discover that many of our difficulties and discomforts created ruts, broken shoulders and cracks in our own personal life. These impediments signal that we may need to reroute our own life in order to make internal repairs. In the same way construction zones temporarily create detours, rerouted traffic, and lane shifts, personal redirection can likewise be thought of as a temporary, but necessary setback for long-term improvement. 

A person sitting on a couch, resting their chin on their hand, looking thoughtfully at a laptop with papers and a pen on the table.
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Detours with Purpose: Reframing Setbacks as Redirection ↩️

These life detours, be they physical-health and/or mental well-being crisis, a death, divorce, and so on, typically create obstacles–a change in what we think is “the plan.”  However, just as construction zones are there to repair the road, our healing, growth, and ability to move towards wholeness often begins as we experience these hurdles. Therefore, it is helpful to reframe our thinking around these life detours and obstacles as opportunities for not only healing, but also reflection, intervention, or a necessary challenge to a long-held personal perspective.

A woman sitting in a chair, looking contemplative and holding a pen near a notebook, with her hand resting on her forehead in a thoughtful manner.
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Grit, Heat, and Hard Work: The Labor of Self-Growth 🥵

Another important point to consider with regards to road construction is that the work crew must endure a wide array of weather conditions, including extreme heat and humidity that accompanies summer. A return to safe and smooth roads cannot occur without their effort, perseverance, sweat, and labor. Likewise, personal growth and/or physical healing often requires a similar level of grit. 

Whether we participate in therapy, work to improve or create beneficial habits, set clear–and perhaps new–boundaries, work to forgive, and/or learn a new skill or life lesson (or both), personal construction demands that we put in the work. Discomfort, like construction, is a necessity.  Growth and healing are not easy and rarely occur without challenge and effort.

Two women engaged in a conversation at a table in a modern office setting, with one woman wearing glasses and a blue dress, and the other facing away.
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Preventive Maintenance: Investing in Long-Term Well-Being 😃

Another important consideration to effective road repair is that maintenance should be ongoing, rather than deferred, as this can lead to greater road damage and travel hazard. By taking care of ongoing small issues as they arise, bigger problems can be prevented in the future. 

Similarly, our own “self-maintenance” is also a worthwhile investment in order to reduce the likelihood of a major life-repair. Taking time to invest in our own daily health through quality sleep, good nutrition, stress management, physical exercise, fostering healthy relationships, and even learning new things–can be thought of as small personal investments that pay dividends towards our own long term “infrastructure.”  

A woman and a man sitting on a couch engaged in a conversation, with a woman taking notes in the foreground. The room features plants and wall art.
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Building a Support Crew: Don’t Travel Alone 😁

That said, sometimes personal maintenance can sometimes feel like “one more thing to do” especially when we’re in the midst of a life-storm. Therefore, it can be helpful to cultivate a “crew,” a few good people who can share our times of smooth sailing, encourage our development and/or maintenance of positive habits, and also support us during those bumpy passage days. Ultimately, with regular self-care maintenance and a good support crew, we can cultivate a strong inner foundation that is better able to withstand life’s pressures and storms.

Black and white image of a close embrace between a woman and a child, capturing a moment of warmth and connection.
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Freshly Paved Paths: Signs of Inner Progress 🥹

One of the best parts of road construction occurs when it is finally completed. Routes are once more open, and the ease and smoothness of traveling these roads signals tangible progress. In fact, driving effortlessly over a direct route without detours, potholes, or bumps can be a liberating feeling. 

A smiling man with curly hair, laughing joyfully against a wooden background.
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Progress, Not Perfection: Life Is Always Under Construction 🦺

Unfortunately, it never lasts for long. Rainy season, freeze-thaw season, excessive travel, or 1,000 other scenarios means construction will once again occur, if not specifically on the newly refurbished route. It’s all part of the process of progress–one never attains perfection when it comes to infrastructure–there’s always room for improvement.

Equally, on the other side of our own personal repairs, detours, and/or maintenance, we gradually return to a sense of homeostasis.  Our rerouted life may possess a greater sense of clarity, restored confidence, better decision making skills, and perhaps even a deeper sense of joy. We, too, may feel the momentum to move forward in a renewed direction and embrace the possibilities that come with an unexpected, but freshly paved path.

Smiling woman wearing a cozy sweater, expressing joy and warmth.
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Final Thoughts: Be the Engineer of Your Own Journey 👷

To be sure, summer construction can seem like a real drag on travel; however, it ultimately leads to new routes, expanded systems of travel that are safer and more efficient. However, even when the summer construction season comes to an end, the maintenance of these roads does not end, and that is worth remembering.

Likewise, summer construction reminds us that we are the engineers of our own lives. No, we cannot control everything that happens to us, but we can control our reactions AND we can also make repairs as needed as well as prevent some issues from arising. Therefore, let’s be as proactive as possible through regular sustainment of our own life-construction, so that when life’s storms create a pothole–or five–we are fortified with the strength our regular maintenance and upkeep provides us. In life, as in roads, it’s about progress, not perfection. 

I’ll see you out there on the road of life!

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Sun Kissed Stranger

“I cannot do all the good that the world needs.  But the world needs all the good that I can do.”–Jana Stanfield

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I was walking into a local coffee shop as I typically do nearly every Saturday morning.  It was one of those delightful early spring mornings overflowing with abundant sunshine that enlivened the brisk air.  New green grass stretched through the manicured town patches after its long winter hibernation while newly formed flowering buds and blossoms bobbed and bobbled to the rhythm of the breeze.  

Inhaling, I slowed my typical hasty pace and felt a smile forming in response to all the sensory overload.  Absorbing the glow of my surroundings, I noticed a few people, in spite of the morning chill, sitting on benches, faces tilted towards the luminescence.  Visages, unknown to me, radiating with the joy of appreciation after dreary days of darkness.

On the right side sat a young woman most likely around the age of my daughter–early to mid twenties.  Short, flaxen hair, tucked neatly behind her ears, her face wiped clean of any makeup except for lipstick, the shade of spring tulips.  Tall and curvy, she wore a lavender spaghetti strap shirt that struck me as a bit underdressed for the morning crispness, but what did I know–I am nearly always cold. Chin thrust high, eyes shut, a close-lipped smile across her face.  She seemed happy, content, and at ease.  How lovely, I thought, as I walked past her and on into the coffee shop.

It was only when I walked out of the coffee shop that I noticed what lay at the youthful feet of the woman.  There was an overstuffed worn backpack with a rather faded and worn water bottle inserted into one side of the bag that she heaved it upward in one practiced swoop.  Then, with much effort, she picked up another bag and what appeared to be some sort of walking stick.

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“Blessed are they who see beautiful things in humble places where other people see nothing.”–Camille Pissarro

Was she a hiker?  Maybe, but she was wearing a spaghetti strap shirt, which didn’t strike me as hiking apparel for this time of year.  Besides, if she was a hiker, why would she be in-town?  I tried to put the pieces together and kept coming up short.  As I neared my car, I looked across the street, and I watched her begin to amble away from the community patio, moving westward, the opposite direction of where I would be traveling. Her shuffle and bent back stabbed at my heart.  Then, as I took one last glance at her, with the sun on her bare shoulders, she paused, straightened her posture, tucked stray strands of hair behind her ears, threw back her shoulders, and determinedly continued moving on.

 Who was she?  What was her story?  Where was she headed?  Why was she walking around with a backpack, much less alone?  Was she okay?  Did she have family and friends who loved her?  On and on my mind spun with the worry of a mother.  

Then, it occurred to me that I hadn’t truly seen her entire circumstance until she was walking away, and yet I did nothing.  I could have bought her a cup of coffee, a breakfast sandwich, a bottle of water, a piece of fruit, or something, yet I took no action.  Why hadn’t I been more observant?  Why hadn’t I taken time to check on her?  I felt an onslaught of self-criticism and disappointment.

My imagination was certainly getting the best of me.  There could have been numerous valid reasons for her carrying such a heavy load.  She could have been traveling solo, visiting random places off the beaten path.  Perhaps she was a university student heading home for the weekend, but why would she have a walking stick?  Maybe she was training to hike a big trail, such as the Appalachian Trail.  On the flip side, however, there were as many unfortunate circumstances that could have caused her to be so overburdened. I could not then, and still haven’t, been able to shake this young woman’s image.

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“Love calls us to look upon anyone and say: You are a part of me I do not yet know.”–Valarie Kaur

Since that encounter, I have often thought about this unknown female.  I have asked myself repeatedly why I didn’t pay closer attention upon first seeing her as well as wonder why I can’t forget her image. What lesson was I to glean from this chance sighting?  Then I read an essay in which the author’s main point seemed to say that it is the very people about whom we wonder that fosters our capacity for compassion, empathy, greater understanding, and sometimes even prompts us to take action for others for whom we see as different within our community and/or the world.  She (the author) suggested that by “seeing others as part of us we do not yet know,” we can begin to stop the cycle of separateness.

While the author’s vision was/is highly aspirational, it nonetheless was/is a catalyst for personal reflection.  Reflecting upon my own actions, I’d like to think I am open-minded and compassionate; however, there are still multiple ways in which I have failed to see others as part of me, to share another’s pain, grief, or dared to understand their seemingly self-absorptions.  In fact, some of my most vociferous and worst behaviors often occur while driving.  However, I have also been known to be guilty of a condescending look, a sarcastic thought, or even in my ability to look the other way.  While I can soften the blow and claim that I am a human being, having a human moment, it doesn’t make my actions in those moments any better, and it also doesn’t mean that I shouldn’t work on eliminating, or at the very least, reducing them.

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“Perspective is the way we see things when we look at them from a certain distance and it allows us to appreciate their true value.”–Rafael E. Pino

My lesson to learn, at least as I presently reflect upon it, is a reminder of what I know to be true as an educator.  Every person starts as a child of someone–a symbol of hope and promise for the future.  Each child is part of a family, whether known or not, a being of a community, and a citizen of the world–the same as which we all began.  While I will never know the story of the unknown young lady, she is a part of the same humanity as me.

If the human collective could be thought of as one large web, my life would only be one of the hydrogen or oxygen atoms forming a drop of dew on one strand glistening in the early morning light alongside all of the other droplets.  If each orb of dew were a family, each uncrossed part of strand were a community, the full length of each individual strand would be a county, and the entire web would be the world, the resiliency of the web’s ability to support all of  dew drops on the strands, as well as to sustain life, depends on the integrity of each strand.  The strength of the web’s silk depends upon the bonding of various atoms to form the proteins forming the web in the first place.  If one part of the web is damaged, it must quickly be rebuilt, or the entire web will cease to exist.  To take this analogy one step further, those atoms making up the dew drops at the top of the web may perceive the green tips of grass, while those at the bottom may only discern the brown of dirt–and yet, no matter their view of the world, they all belong to the same web.

I pray that my thoughts and actions more regularly reflect the fact that every person is part of the same web of life as me.  When my brain deems someone as “another,” may I begin to habitually remember with each encounter that they are part of me that I may not yet know, and their existence matters.  I would do well to see the world from their position on the web. While it is overwhelming to think of repairing the entire web of the world, I can begin to repair, foster, and reshape my thinking and interactions within my own communities. I may not be perfect in my efforts, as the story of the young woman illustrates, but with each shortcoming, I can likewise use it as a reminder to try again.

As seen on Instagram at MyLife ( Formally Stop, Breathe, Think)