Tuesday, February 22, 2011

On the Road Again

On the Road Again

Goin' places that I've never been
Seein' things that I may never see again
And I can't wait to get on the road again

As a toddler, it was common knowledge that my son, Brandon would fall asleep within minutes of riding in a car, any car. There was just something about the calmness, coziness and comfort of riding in the back seat that lulled him to sleep no matter how rambunctious he was minutes earlier.

Brandon would courageously fight against it, but with heavy, drooping eyelids betraying him, within minutes he would give in to the pull of heavenly sleep.

My son inherited this condition honestly. Look at his mama.

I don't fall asleep when I ride in a car or heaven forbid, when I'm behind the steering wheel. However, early on in my life, I made a fascinating discovery. I do my best thinking, dreaming, reflecting and decision making when I'm driving, especially long distance drives on the open freeway. I've always adored driving. Long distance driving doesn't bother me as it does some people. In fact, I long for those trips. When I was younger and carefree, it was common for me and a group of friends to scream out, "Road trip." And off we went, as far as our short money would take us.

I could clearly relate to parts of the movie, Thelma and Louise, because I identified with how getting away makes situations appear much clearer. I wouldn't have taken such drastic steps, but clearly by the end of the movie, they knew exactly what and who they were. And they knew they couldn't go back to the life they had left behind.

This past weekend I had the opportunity to travel to Jacksonville, FL, to visit a book club. I drove the 5 and a half hours distance from Atlanta. There is no other feeling like taking to the open road, alone with yourself. So, if you don't like yourself. . . oh well, now that's a problem. I've never been one to need a crowd around all the time; personally, I prefer my own company. So, I was as happy as a fat kid in an ice cream shop.

I turned off the radio, let down my car windows, sipped on my ice cold Cola Cola, ate my barbecue chips and leisurely cruised the miles away, small town by small town. Being alone with your thoughts is a wonderful thing. It's a feeling I relish because it is so rare for me. I think some people are afraid of being alone with themselves. Myself, I delight in it.

My drive was very therapeutic and I resolved some issues that were bothering me and were unclear at the time. During the course of my drive, by simply being able to listen, really listen to my spirit, some important decisions were made and closure was finally surrendered on others.

My senses were wide open and all over the place. The drive along 75S is by no means an exciting ride unless you enjoy passing through city after city declaring themselves the peach city, the pecan city, the magnolia city, seeing a giant peanut, signs for adult sex stores, billboards for miles and miles directing you to pull over and buy Georgia pecans or the one about thousands of books, all for only $3 each. I was tempted to pull off the exit to check out the books for $3, but I've also seen too many horror flicks that focus on road trips and horrible things that happen to the lone female. Same reason I don't stop at rest stops. . . but I digress.

At the time, that drive was exactly what I needed, excitement or not.

I saw, smelled, listened and embraced everything within my sight, all within the confines of my medium-size car. After making some overdue decisions, shortly afterwards, I passed a rural church sitting back off the interstate, in a country field of wild flowers of every color under the rainbow. At first I thought I was imagining things, even as I slowed to a crawl to observe it, because in it's simple, rustic appeal, it didn't seem real. It reminded me of a painting. A small country, white church with a steeple in the shape of a large white cross. It set quiet, strong, and defiant. It took it as a sign from God that I had indeed made the right decisions.

There is nothing like getting in touch with your spirit---away from the daily grind and distractions that clog and clutter our inner voice. Open the sunroof, let down the windows and hit the open road in search of your truths. It works for me. So. . .

Get your motor runnin'
Head out on the highway
Lookin' for adventure
And whatever comes our way

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Blogger Yolanda said...

I love this Electa. Just reading it was soothing.

Tuesday, February 22, 2011  
Blogger Electa Rome Parks said...

Thank you, Yolanda!

Tuesday, February 22, 2011  

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