Do you remember riding in the car as a kid and not knowing where you were going?
There was an unappreciated bliss of how irrelevant I was when running errands with my mom. A bliss I haven’t felt in years – hopping in the car, no care in the world for how long we were gone, where we were going, or what was being done. My responsibility was just to ride.
Adulthood has contributed to noisier car rides.
Not just in the traffic, the sirens, the horns – but in my mind.
What used to be a time for day dreaming and imagining myself in music videos has become a time of mundane brain chatter on responsibilities needing to be taken care of. Noise that puts me into autopilot as I Tokyo drift to my next destination without any awareness of funny billboards, quirky bumper stickers, or clever license plates.
I’ve been slacking on my meditations lately, so I promised myself I’d take 10 mins a day minimum to do so.
So tonight – I just rode.
I tilted my head in a familiar angle that rushed all of the joy ride memories back. Reading each and every billboard. Scanning for letters in alphabetical order to see how long it took to get to Z. Curiously looking into cars passing by to see someone clearly belting a song they felt very passionate about. Invading privacy of fellow highway goers who are digging for gold in their nose, surely not thinking someone would see them from the driver seat of I94. Deciding if my eyes wanted the entertainment of keeping up with the foreground objects moving 70+ MPH, or if I wanted to imagine myself running along side the car tackling any and every hurdle that came my way.
A flood of memories from my imagination took over and reminded me of the simpler times when the creative mind was free to think, imagine, and relax.
This is my reminder to just ride. Literally and figuratively.
We need to quiet the chatter. We deserve a break to imagine.
We require a break from responsibility.
Thank you for reading.
I wrote this blog, and literally within the next 3-5 days after I wrote it I saw a hilarious bumper sticker that said, “don’t worry, my driving scares me too.” I also saw a license plate that said, “momager,” which is hilarious because over the years my mother has constantly joked about being my momager. In addition, Kathleen and I played a very competitive game of Alphabet on our roadtrip. Everything I stated in this blog, came to fruition. Ha. The universe is being funny lately.