Looking out the window
I’ve been reading Mandy Thompson’s blog for a while, and she left this question a couple of nights ago, which I’ve since been pondering.
Since I’m living sort of in limbo, driving back and forth between Adam’s and work and the Zakaryan’s (which is, actually, home, though I’m not there much) and everywhere else I need to be, my faithful Rocky is once again my home on the highway, so I look out his little dusty pick-up windows more than anything else.
Rocky is safe for me. He’s my shelter and 4-wheel-drive rescuer from muddy/snowy/oh-man-we-shouldn’t-have-done-this situations. I know how to drive him, I know when to shift, I know where the extra McDonald’s napkins are stowed. I know how to buckle my torn up seatbelt and I know where to find emergency gum and body spray. I’m comfortable there.
Sometimes I need to look outside of Rocky though. There are people I encounter daily, on the road, on the way from here to there, who I don’t give weight to, who I overlook and push aside in my hurry. There are sunrises, sunsets, mountains and ocean to see out there. There’s much more outside my window than asphalt and traffic… I just need to look.
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