I live in England and, just to be awkward, we drive on the left hand side of the road. My home lies down a small lane. The only way out of the lane is onto a busy ‘A’ road and, in order to get to work every day, I have to turn right and cross the flow of traffic at rush hour. Sunday mornings, that isn’t so bad. Saturdays can be even quieter. The rest of the week it is a matter of taking your life in your hands and playing chicken with the other drivers. The alternative is to take ten minutes simply to exit the lane as the steady stream of traffic negotiates the fifteen mile stretch of fast road between two towns and the motorways. Let’s face it, everyone is rushing, ‘going to be late’. I remember my grandmother’s maxim… ‘it is better to be late than dead on time.’

I sat in the car this morning, twiddling my thumbs and waiting for the vehicle in front to be able to exit, also turning right. It can get incredibly frustrating, especially when the clock is ticking away and you need to be somewhere. You know that if you succumb to that frustration you will start the day stressed and irritable. And actually, until the car in front moves, there is nothing you can do… so why fret? So you watch, eagle eyed, for a gap in the flow of oncoming traffic that matches a corresponding gap in the stream of traffic you wish to join.

This morning we waited. And waited. Finally the car in front managed to clear the road. Now it was my turn to try and skitter across at top speed to make the right turn, with no visible gaps in the traffic flow.

The solution was simple. I turned left instead, joining the line of cars heading into my village. You may detect a slight problem here. I was now heading the wrong way.

Twenty yards further on there is another lane; this time on the opposite side of the road. I slow down, indicating to turn right, now plainly visible in the middle of the two lanes of opposing traffic. The cars behind me have to slow and stop. I no longer need to worry about them. The oncoming traffic is just one lane… many drivers will slow to let me across the flow and into the little lane where I can turn around in the wide turning circle. I then rejoin the flow of traffic, now in the right direction, by the simple expedient of turning left into the first, small gap. Easy. The whole operation takes less than two minutes. I’ve done it for years. It still surprises me that more motorists don’t do that.

While all the thumb twiddling was going on, I couldn’t help but draw comparisons. So many times we focus on where we want to reach, seeing only the one way to get there, when in fact, there may be others, less obvious. If we step away from that focus, we may find a false start necessary or even that a circuitous route will work best after all; the direct route may be the most economical in theory, but the least productive and efficient in practice.

Our attention gets stuck in a rut sometimes, and like ruts in a cart track, that have been so well worn by people who have passed that way before us, we instinctively trust them and follow where the they lead. They may be hard going, but they are perfectly serviceable and reliable routes between the start and finish of a journey. Yet it is easy to let the ‘usual’ herd us like sheep, knowing that this way lies safety in numbers, rather than looking for a less conventional route that may, in fact, suit us better. The proverbial cart track may be so well worn that it is full of potholes and puddles… we might be better abandoning its course, climbing the fence and walking through the meadow instead. It won’t always work… there may be nettles and brambles rather than cool grass and flowers… or an irate bull instead of butterflies… but on the other hand, how can we know unless we give ourselves the chance find out?

There is some merit in being a little unconventional, choosing to forge your own path instead of following the accepted route. Almost every great figure in history, art and innovation has done so… they all stood out from the crowd, even when they sought no limelight. Next time you know where you are going yet the way ahead seems tense and frustrating… why not try ‘turning left’ and seeing where it leads?