The Drive

The Drive

Thoughts:

At a cursory glance, a solo drive across the whole of central and western North America seems a daunting idea. Three days alone in a car. Three days of prairies, and road construction, of truck-stop snack food and the soft-focus companionship of those arbitrary, warm-glow taillights.

But a 15 hour drive is an opportunity. And three consecutive 15 hour drives is a gold-mine. Consider the luxury of being able to complete a thought.

Imagine your standard friday night. You go out for dinner, and then see a movie. The story is well told, and it raises questions about friendship, and loyalty. It gets you thinking. You get back into your car, and think to yourself, "I wonder how good of a friend I actually am". And then head home to finish up the laundry, because you're heading out early the next morning for an out-of-town wedding, and you know traffic is going to be a horror-show on the QEW.

Imagine driving west. You're in the middle of Montana, just west of Yellowstone, and you finish up a 1 hour podcast on the virtues of friendship, and loyalty. It gets you thinking. So you start talking it out. To the steering wheel. To the sprawling vistas that surround you as you carve your way through the plains. Time is of no consequence. You're going to drive until you're sleepy. Or until you hit water. "Am I a good friend? What do I call a good friend? Who are my good friends? Why? And how do I see them? And how do they see me?"

There's depth in solitude. And much to be learned from one's own thoughts. We talk, in church settings, about hearing God. Perhaps hearing God is synonymous with hearing ourselves. Like a factory-shipped Dell, the information is already there. No install necessary. Just turn it on. Perhaps an unrealistic expectation given the pace of everyday life.

So I thought a lot. I think I learned things about myself. With that kind of time, you start thinking about thinking. To ask yourself if you're a good friend is one thing. To ask yourself why you answered that question the way that you did is a step further, and probably tells you more about yourself.

I did a lot of thinking back to specific periods in my life, trying to decipher what made those moments different than others. Where was my mind? What did I value? What was my inspiration?

There was time to quantify my situation. There are so many positives in my life. So many reasons that I love waking up (almost) every morning. My marriage. My work. There is something important about taking the time to sort those things into piles. To look at the things that fill me up and appreciate them for what they are. The well of contentment is sourced from the active awareness of one's situation.

There will be more to come about the time Kar and I spent together, on the island, and driving back East. But as for the drive out, it was excellent, and something I highly recommend.


Arbitrary Thoughts:

- The geographical diversity of the northern United States and Canada is incredible. It really is a beautiful drive.

- How other people live, how I live, and whether there are objective lessons to be learned is something I thought a lot about. The open simplicity of central Montana against the bustling and striving of Toronto is a jarring juxtaposition. In an ideal world, we'd all switch places for a year, just to learn, and experience. How I think about everything (politics, faith, etc.) has to be affected by my daily experience, no?

- It is only on that lonesome two-lane highway in the middle of the prairies, in the searing heat of a weekday afternoon, in the solitude of having not seen another car over the past 45 minutes, that one remembers the conversation they had with their mechanic that led to them deciding not to replace the timing belt after 130 000 km despite the mechanic's hearty recommendations to do so lest you suffer the devastating and undoubtedly imminent consequences.

- Hitting a moose would be terrifying. We saw one roadside on the way home. More terrifying is how little thought is ever given to what might happen if said moose, having come through the windshield, managed to remain conscious, and, heaven help us, angry.

- I'm just going to say it, because, well, I covered a fair amount of the country and saw a lot of people. Americans are a hearty folk, aren't they?

- When you're 356 miles from any town, in any direction, and the ground is cracked and dusty from drought, and the sun is blazing down on an empty road surrounded by fields of tumbleweed and wild grass as far as the eye can see, and there are rattle snake warning signs, and you see a tiny home two and a half miles up the mountain with two horses tied up out front and an american flag hanging off the side, your first thought is generally, "wonder where they got the flag..."

- When you're rolling through Iowa, you find yourself on high alert for a Ray Kinsella sighting. In Montana, it feels more like Clint Eastwood. Or somebody from the cast of Bonanza.

- The definition of advertising genius is putting a monstrous, glowing sign roadside on the I-90 in the middle of nowhere that reads, "MYSTERY LOCATION, NEXT RIGHT! OMINOUS OCCURRENCES AND EVENTS GUARANTEED TO HAPPEN! 3 MILES AHEAD. NEXT RIGH!!" in huge bold letters. Guaranteed to happen? Let me make you a guarantee. If you turn at the next right, you're going to find a gas station with a fruit-stand.

JB