same road, different driver

I don’t always know where I’m going….and I don’t always know how I’m going to get there.

There….I’ve said it out loud.

How’s that for a confidence booster?

I was laying in bed this morning listening to our little daughter talking in her sleep….listening to what kind of conversations she has with her dreams….and Jenny woke up and we started visiting and I stopped listening to Sparrow’s private conversation.

We were talking about movement and career trajectories and motivation and aggressive ladder climbing.

We were talking about trash in a stream bed.

Jenny said that sometimes it’s like the driver who tailgates you on the freeway…then zooms around you and roars off into the distance…and then you meet them 5 minutes later when you pull off at the next rest area.

Maybe they really had to “go”?

That was part of the conversation about careers….not part of the trash talk.

I don’t know what we have to show for some of the aggression we live….

Hard to figure out, sometimes.

Sometimes it seems like, in the end, we don’t have much to show for all the “achievement”….not a whole lot to show for the hard choices we make.

Check out this traffic jam in China.

That’s progress in action…..everybody has a car now.

Now it’s “their turn”.

Remember when it was like this…..(in China)…..

I guess that people still ride bicycles in China….but I think that there are a lot more cars now.

That’s pretty crazy how many cars there are in China now.

Progress.

I guess that we all have different styles….no matter what we’re doing, we each bring something different to the table.

I’m a mailman….or, I’m an artist who drives a car and opens mailboxes all day.

I shouldn’t try and define myself like that…..maybe I’m not even an artist.

Probably not.

Anyway….I get tailgated all day long.

There’s something about a vehicle with a flashing light that stops all the time that irritates some people.

I must irritate people. People tailgate me.

Whether I drive fast….or slow….I’ve noticed that I always seem to get somewhere.

And….even when I’m sitting still, my molecules are moving.

I can’t help myself….I’m always fidgeting at a molecular level.

I can’t sit still….really.

 

“traffic jam” James Taylor

 

About Peter Rorvig

I'm a non-practicing artist, a mailman, a husband, a father...not listed in order of importance. I believe that things can always get better....and that things are usually better than we think.

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