driving

I love going for drives. I love taking my Best Girl out to stretch her legs (she's cooped up in a garage for most of the week while I'm at work); I love giving new songs a chance to find their way into my heart and touch my soul; I love singing along to old favourites; I love getting lost (even if/ when I start to feel anxious about it--because I always do ;)). I love just...driving. Without having a place to go, or a place to be, or something to make it to. I love driving for driving's sake.

What we do reveals more about us than what we say. This is a given. In a strange(ly accurate) way, the way I drive reveals more about me than I would've thought. I accelerate quickly--but never speed (too much...); I take turns with gusto--but am never reckless or careless; I move quickly and with feeling first, intuitively, but never without thought; music is of utmost importance, and I will never, ever, under ANY circumstances settle on a sub-par song (N.B.: what constitutes a "sub-par song" varies depending on the day). But most importantly, when I am driving, I am driving. I am not doing anything else. I am my car, and my car is me (its why we're best friends ;)). And I love it. I love it all.

Sometimes there are passengers. When there are passengers, I am distracted. I drive differently--I move differently. I don't accelerate quickly. I miss opportunities to turn and end up waiting longer than I should. And I don't even hear the music, let alone be selective about songs. I am not my car, and my car is not me. We are separate. And driving is no longer something that I love, it is no longer something that I am, but just...something that I am doing.

Passengers are part of driving, part of the experience (no car is made with less than two). That being said, not all passengers are made for long-distance trips. They get in, they get out. Your style changes, you change, for their presence...but its a temporary thing. Every now and again though, you get a passenger who somehow... understands; who doesn't cramp your style, or distract you, or turn your volume down. Every now and again, you get a passenger who you can be together, but alone with. Such passengers are few and far between. And sometimes, just when you think you've found one, you find out you were wrong. That's the worst. Because then, you realize that all those drives you've invited them on and included them in were in vain; that you've sacrificed yourself and what you love for nothing. And you feel like an idiot for it. Not even in front of them, but in front of yourself.

Its a tricky thing to navigate, a difficult balance to strike. All we can do is keep moving. We'll get to where we're going.