I AM SHARING MY DEAR GIRLFRIEND, AND FELLOW BLOGGER, KRISTIN LOBENSTEIN’S PIECE TODAY BECAUSE I BELIEVE IT WILL RESONATE WITH YOU…RIGHT ABOUT NOW: THE POINT IN SUMMER WHERE YOU JUST MIGHT MAYYYYBE A LITTLE TIRED, FRAZZLED OR IN NEED OF HIDING IN YOUR CLOSET FOR A FEW MINUTES FROM YOUR DARLING BUT EVER SO PRESENT KIDDOS. JUST MAYBE THAT’S YOU. IF SO, READ ON DEAR MAMAS.
Has this ever happened to you? You’re driving. Going to work, shopping, lunch, the gym. You’re definitely alone. The typically congested Southern California street you’re traveling on is suddenly wide open. The lights are all turning green. You’re at a cool and steady 45 mph. A lot for California standards. On the radio is an old familiar song. It has a great beat and you find yourself singing along.
You straighten your back and grip the steering wheel. It feels like your heart is beating to the sound of the music and you find yourself accelerating just a little faster.
Something inside you immediately relaxes. In an exuberant kind of way, not a sleepy kind of way. Your senses are alive and for the first time all day you notice the world around you.
You start to visualize an open road, fields on either side. It’s not as pretty as it is vacant. No other cars around. The windows are up, but somehow the wind is in your hair.
Then comes the voice.
Just drive, she says. Keep going. Don’t stop. The freeway is up ahead. Get on. It’s not rush hour yet. Just drive.
You keep imagining the road. It’s cold and cloudy outside, but the road inside your head is filled with hot sunshine.
The voice of freedom again. Just drive, she says.
It’s not forever. Maybe just a little while. A day. A weekend.
Just drive, she says. Get on the freeway. Keep going. Don’t stop. Drive until you get to the quiet. Drive until you get to the place where nothing else exists. Except you.
The place where no one relies on you. No one to control your next move. No traffic. Just you, the car, the radio and the wind.
No children. No spouse. No dinner to make. No games to attend. No one to compete with or contend with. No one is texting you. No one is asking you anything. Or asking anything of you.
Then your turn comes. Without a moment’s hesitation, you’ve set your blinker and slowly make your way into the other lane. And it’s over. The smile on your face fades back into the straight line it was five minutes ago. How silly. You have so much to do.
Back to reality. Fantasy gone. What was that about, you think. For five minutes you were ready to drive away. Not permanently of course. I mean, not really, right?
A little ounce of guilt tickles your insides. Like having a cocktail in the middle of the afternoon. Enticing. Lovely. Yet rarely enjoyed.
Thanks. I’ll have another.