A Mystery Revealed.

My relationship with the car is definitely changing.  Although it might have something to do with the heated seat (I often find myself stalling when it is time to actually get out on a cold winter’s day) there is some bigger issue evolving that has taken me by surprise.

This is how I know.  Two days ago I jumped at the opportunity to pick up Will from college, a little over three hours away.  A long car ride felt like just what I needed.  Of course I listened to NPR until it got static-y- and then flipped the stations from Christmas carols to odd country stations you can really only find on the borders of NY State and the early mountains of Vermont.  (And there was no one else in the car to complain.) 

The odd part?  I distinctly remember a time in my life where a day of six hours in the car felt like an eternity.  The miles went by so slowly, the time never seemed to move.   But now—I look out the window and am completely absorbed by the changing scenery; absorbed in the solitude where I can think about anything or think about nothing.   In the car, Reality is suspended and things are on hold.  There isn’t any list to complete.  The rules are straightforward,  it is a simple formula.  Drive there.  Come home. And there in the car,  I realize I feel complete freedom from the complexities of life.  Suddenly, in the midst of the journey, I realize that I am actually enjoying the journey.  That it is the journey that I wanted, it was the journey that I needed.   And as for those  "Sunday Drivers" that always mystified me as a kid while sitting in the back of the the station wagon--itching to get out, to get there, to Arrive.   Why would anyone want to just drive around on a Sunday?   Now I know.