stuck in the middle

Well last night was a bit disasterous, as I was continually reminded how random and unpredictable life can be, especially when you need it to be otherwise. I could spend this post venting about the 12 things that did not go how I needed them to go, but I will save you the fury and just say it was a tough day.

Part of it centered around what happened during rush hour. There are more than 1,000,000 people who live in this county, and yesterday two of them decided to crash their cars into each other in one of the busiest intersections around. Cars were backed up for miles in all directions, and the city was virtually gridlocked. I was stuck on the left of a three lane road, in between a Mercury and a median, and I sat there for a LONG time, wondering what would happen if I just simply didn't go to the place I needed to be.

Now I'm sure the drivers in the accident felt horrible about all of this (I would), and I'm sure the other disgruntled commuters could equally measure out some level of empathy. But it's amazing how little you think about those things when you're going through them. Honestly, I didn't care how much damage had been done (to the cars or their passengers), and I wasn't too concerned about the needs of countless people around me (all who obviously needed to be somewhere). I was so driven and focused on my need to do something, that it anesthetized me to those who were just as bummed and bored as I was, even lifting in me a compulsion to offer better radio programming for those stuck in traffic. I would have given anything to be like Jim Carey as Bruce Nolan, parting my hands and splitting the sea of cars so I could drive unreasonably fast and go where I had set out to go. But alas, my hands are normal, and (in the tradition of Once Upon a Potty) we sat, and sat, and sat some more, and the sun fell lower in the sky, and our destinations stayed far away.

I don't know if we will get to drive in Heaven. Conventional wisdom says that golden streets are not entirely appropriate for drag racing. I honestly wouldn't even care if they gave me a second-class form of transportation (cart and buggy or three-humped camel). The thing I would truly love though, the thing that would mean the most to me, would be to see the horizon and always be able to go there, to see the next destination and be unhindered in my approach. We wouldn't have to go fast, and we could enjoy every step of the journey. Oh, but to keep moving . . . onward, forward, ahead, closer . . . ever reaching, straining, dreaming for the day ahead. Maybe there's something to be said for the traffic jams in this life, and the patience they engender, and the humility they require, but I can't say I won't miss them if one day they're gone. There's just too much ahead to stay where I've been.