How many sayings about traveling can you think of? Do most challenge you to celebrate the journey?
My brain is loaded with a rangy assortment of bygone songs. This means musical clichés may attack at any moment, including that old Mac Davis song, the one where "you got to STOP ... and smell the roses." I’ve wasted space on that for 38 years. Perhaps if you are of another era, you can hear “The Climb." Thirty-five years from now, remember this: if you don’t want it in there anymore, they don’t make a scrub. It’s sticking.
I know those songs are big metaphors for life’s journeys, but I can’t connect. If my life were a Bugs Bunny map, it would look like a technical illustration in an appliance brochure. “The Washing Machine Spin Cycle”. STOP ... ping to smell the roses, or to say hi to a friend and admire his bees (that’s not a metaphor; I live in the country; I have more than one beekeeper friend) sets my internal dial whirring. This is a shame. I like the roses, and I’m fascinated by bees.
So I’m trying. Whenever I can, I’m pausing the spin cycle, allowing more time, a little cushion, some space to enjoy whatever comes along, including the detours. For instance, if heavy equipment blocks your usual path (again, not a metaphor, looks like someone needed work done on their septic field), you might take the less-direct lakeside route, and find this guy standing in a neighbor’s yard.
To my fellow road warriors, I say, leave a few minutes early when you can. Take a different route, mix it up, re-engage with your surroundings. I’d love to hear what you find.
For a slightly less positive, but more amusing bird encounter during my non-taxi season, consider this turkey.