Well. . . A degree of standing at the proverbial crossroads seems to be prerequisite. Some appear to be luckier than others, perhaps, in that they seem fated to happen upon profitable directions, friends and so on. A degree of personal acceptance of the reality that one has just been spinning their wheels. Not that that is evil, per se.
Life is life.
Growing things grow. Nothing that is is exactly what it was when it began. . . Show me one. Acorns become trees and trees become acorns. Gyring, spiring . .