Driving alone is cathartic, if allowed to be. The endless miles open a door to a multitude of streaming thoughts. Random, deliberate, fleeting, enduring. These thoughts can lead nowhere, or to the next thought. Sometimes these thoughts lead to the solution to a sticky problem. Sometimes they lead to more problems. More questions.
The thoughts can be benign. My oldest son learns from a friend that he can earn big money for donating blood. For him, it is the answer to not having or being able to get a job. He is elated that he can do it twice a month....or at least until his veins scar or collapse.
They can be random. They start with a question. How do people eat junk food as a regular diet? Do they do it for convenience? Don't they think about health...at all? This thought hit me as I swigged my diet Dr. Pepper and munched on Bugles punctuated by peanut M&Ms. It further annoyed me when I threw in the fact that I haven't exercised in almost a week and am feeling quite flabby.
But, meaningful thoughts can supercede the mundane thoughts. Well, meaningful to someone, somewhere. Meaningful enough for me to spend time thinking as the miles click by. Or, in this case, as I pull out of Buccee's on I-10 and see the hitchhiking couple on the side of the road before the entrance ramp. They were young and epitomized the term 'misfit': dirty, long unkempt hair, ragged clothes. Bohemian. The girl stood holding a cardboard sign with barely visible writing while her male companion sat in the shoulder of the road. Who will pick these two up....who do they think will pick them up? Not me, for sure. Most likely not anyone coming out of Buccee's in their minivans packed with family members. All I could think about was how badly they must smell and what terrible things they could do if I did give them a ride. My mind froze with images I had seen from Criminal Minds and Law and Order. I certainly don't want to end up that way. I briefly thought that maybe they could just ride in the back of my truck. They can't really harm me from back there. But, then again, no. What if I got in an accident? I never did think it safe to let people ride in the bed of the truck. I pulled away with one last glance in my rearview mirror and hoped that some trucker would give them a ride and that they wouldn't have to be outside when the approaching storm hit.
Many of my streaming thoughts circle around my issues: family, work, home. What I have to do tomorrow and what I did today. Or, often members of my family encroach on my silence with a phone call or text, needing my input or wanting resolution to a problem that seems insurmountable on their own. I wonder what help I can be hundreds of miles away; but, it seems to pacify them and kick off more streaming thoughts.
Quite often, my thoughts turn to God. Beseeching His help for me or someone I have promised to pray for; unloading my worries and concerns on Him with the hope that the resulting freedom and peace will satisfy me enough not to worry or be concerned about those issues anymore.
Moreover, the streaming thoughts that can run rampant during my solo drives are those thoughts that get sidelined every day by all of the mundane responsibilities that clutter my existence. I have no time to let my thoughts wander aimlessly. The solo drives afford me the privilege of reducing my multi-tasking to an n of 1: driving. I can do most of it on autopilot and just let the thoughts stream through, as fast or as slow as they choose to go. While I drive my car, they drive me.
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