I do some of my best thinking when I’m driving. If I am alone, I’m pretty sure I could write the outline of a novel on a 20-minute trip. Tonight was no exception. I had a half hour drive to my daughter’s basketball game, and I used the opportunity to write a letter of apology to one of my siblings. Wrote it in my head, of course. Then even said parts of it out loud so I might remember it. Weird, I know.
The best part of the letter writing drive was a surprise. During the conclusion of my thoughts, when I was so thankful to tell my sibling that our relationship actually makes me happy, my phone buzzed. It was him. Good thing I had already written the letter in my head. I was able to read it off to him as if it was all just the natural flow of my heart. It was. But it had a nice polish to it.
I was a little surprised by the whole event. I didn’t even realize most of the feelings that I had about the situation. But as I drove on a dark stretch of Arkansas highway, just a few other cars taking on the cold night, my mind stopped reacting to my environment. Or maybe that’s exactly what it did. Instead of thinking about grocery lists, sports schedules, work plans, and everything else that rolled through my mind, I reacted to the environment. My mind went dark, and softer ideas rose to the surface. I had a few minutes to reflect on something before the next town appeared.
There’s nothing earth shattering in my discovery. Just a reminder that sometimes it’s a good idea to slip into the quiet dark highways, to drive quietly in the dark and see what you need to write.
The best part of the letter writing drive was a surprise. During the conclusion of my thoughts, when I was so thankful to tell my sibling that our relationship actually makes me happy, my phone buzzed. It was him. Good thing I had already written the letter in my head. I was able to read it off to him as if it was all just the natural flow of my heart. It was. But it had a nice polish to it.
I was a little surprised by the whole event. I didn’t even realize most of the feelings that I had about the situation. But as I drove on a dark stretch of Arkansas highway, just a few other cars taking on the cold night, my mind stopped reacting to my environment. Or maybe that’s exactly what it did. Instead of thinking about grocery lists, sports schedules, work plans, and everything else that rolled through my mind, I reacted to the environment. My mind went dark, and softer ideas rose to the surface. I had a few minutes to reflect on something before the next town appeared.
There’s nothing earth shattering in my discovery. Just a reminder that sometimes it’s a good idea to slip into the quiet dark highways, to drive quietly in the dark and see what you need to write.