Have you ever had the experience of going about your day and all of a sudden wondering how you got to where you physically are at that point of time? You find yourself in a familiar space but not really sure if that is where you are supposed to be? Over the past few weeks I have had this instance a few times where I feel like I have switched on ‘automatic pilot’ and on these occasions it was not particularly helpful.

My youngest son is doing Year 12 at High School and has less classes to physically be present at school for. He loves the idea that there are a couple of days where he starts late or finishes early. Me? Not so much as I am the one that has to remember which days these are and facilitate transport.

On a morning a few weeks ago, I diligently left the prison by 11am to take my son to school. I started driving along the road in the direction of school, only to realise 5 mins into the drive that I hadn’t gone home first to collect my cherub so I could actually get him there. We made it to school in time, but it was close.

The following week I was driving on the familiar route home but was not heading home. Before too long I found myself in the right hand turning lane at a large set of lights despite needing to continue on straight ahead to get to the actual destination for that moment, rather than my residential address.

I have found myself standing in the middle of a supermarket at the shopping centre where I do my weekly food shop when I hadn’t gone in to go to the supermarket, but needed a different shop entirely.

Once the realisation hits that I am not where I am supposed to be, I have a variety of emotions at once including frustration at my own lack of concentration, fear I am losing my mind or that menopausal hormones strike again, and the critical voice will berate me for my obvious low intellectual capacity.

What is actually happening here? It’s something called muscle memory – a phenomenon where your body and brain are so used to doing something that it assumes you don’t need to think about it any longer and reduces the degree of cognitive processing to that task so you can think about other things. Often it happens without us realising it.

Once we learn to walk we do not need to put a lot of brain power in our coordination, balance and which foot goes where. We breathe and swallow on automatic pilot, and the complexities of driving a car become easier the more practice we have had so our brain can give more attention to other things like road hazards, other drivers (and whether or not we have the passenger we need in the car!)

Where else might this show up and not be entirely helpful? What about when I respond with the fact that I am ‘fine’ when I am actually struggling, or when I ask about others and assume they will say ‘fine’ and I don’t really listen for the answer?

Having a regular practice of prayer and devotion each day is a fabulous habit to have, until it becomes ritualistic that it loses all inspiration and joy. I find that it’s then that God breaks through, almost waking me up from my stupor and says, “Look around you. This is not where you are meant to be right now!”

These verses from Psalm 25 come to mind: “Show me your ways, LORD, teach me your paths. Guide me in your truth and teach me, for you are God my Savior, and my hope is in you all day long.” (verses 4-5).

I pray that my muscle memory to form good habits and practices continues, but not at the expense of heading in the wrong direction at the wrong time, no matter how familiar that direction may be. Which way are you meant to be going right now?

Be blessed.