The best fork I've ever (accidentally) taken

How to recognise the right path, even when it speaks in whispers

Well hello there, delightful people! 

Some of you may have heard that I got engaged a couple of weeks ago. It was a beautiful proposal by a beautiful man as the sun set on a beautiful winter day. 

Five years ago, I had no earthly idea I’d be standing on a flower-strewn circle of grass in the garden of a 1901 villa ontop of a Stirling hill. I didn’t know I would be separated, let alone divorced, let alone repartnered, let alone being proposed to in the part of the world I’d always wanted to call home.

And yet, here I was. The last five years had flung multiple forks in my path. The forks I chose, and the forks that chose me, had led me to this moment.

I think there’s a misperception that the right forks will announce themselves boldly; a row of shining trumpets blaring “GO THIS WAY! This is your path!”

What I’ve learned is that, yes, some forks feel inevitable, and seem to pull us onto our right paths. Others are harder to recognise, and are sometimes so unexpected that we can disregard their soft whispers. The paths they are nudging us onto feel unplanned, unfamiliar and most certainly uncharted.

So it was when I met my fiance.