Lessons from the Highway

People often say just start writing and it'll come. But what ends up happening is verbal vomit rather than anything poetic on my part. And vomit just isn't quite interesting. Well, it might be to the gossip monger, but not to *my* readers. I know you are all reputable citizens ;-)

There's a lot going on right now with me. Stuff I don't want to quite share on a public blog just yet. Lots of emotion. Lots of thinking. Lots of unknown. I really hate being in my 20s. There's nothing established or rooted about the upheaval lifestyle. It's terrifying. I've moved once a year for 6 years in a row now. I'm getting tired of it. But yet there's no end in sight. I don't know when I will end up where I'm supposed to be. I don't know if this part of life will ever end. I'm on my own for awhile. But thank God I believe in God. This would truly be lonely without his support.

A quick parable I lived this summer: I adore driving. Especially in the summer. Windows down. Wind in the hair. If I didn't live in one of the coldest/snowiest cities in the nation, I would buy a convertible. But that's just not practical. Anywho, on my way down to Pennsylvania in my Jeep this summer, I got stuck in traffic. Now when I say traffic, most of you think rolling between 10-30mph. This is what I'm used to. This was not the case. I was at a dead stop at multiple intervals for 30 minutes or more. It was the worst traffic jam I had ever been in. Disastrous. I found out later that weekend that there had been a sinkhole and they shut down the entire turnpike ahead. The ENTIRE TURNPIKE, PEOPLE. This just doesn't happen. Ever. And I sat there, thinking to myself, "I'm going to miss my best friend's bridal shower." And we had chatted and dreamed about this for years beginning our freshman year in college. We met the first day of orientation. It was a friendship written in the heavens. And I was furious. Furious at the traffic. Furious at the cause. Rottenly furious at myself for choosing this route. And I just sat there. For hours. In the 100 degree weather. The car slowly rolled to a top speed of about 5mph at one point and then the blockade came to a dead halt again. What was I going to do? When would this traffic end? Will the stifling heat, stress and tumultuous inner thoughts stop? Why did I decide to go this route? Will I ever come out of it? Will I be here forever? Will I get to where I want to be? I called my parents one too many times and took it out on them. (Mom and Dad, if you read this, I'm truly sorry. Thank you for bearing with my bitterness.)

And then the traffic cleared.

The highway opened up. We all revved our engines and took off. It was open road. The breeze feeling bloody fantastic in my hair. The speed felt like something out of Top Gun. I arrived at my friend's house and they had waited for me. The shower hadn't even begun and the bride was still due to arrive. I had reached where I was intended to be. At the exact moment I needed to be there. With the people I was supposed to be with. And this realization gained strength as I comprehended the significance of my 8-hour journey.