Distant Lights On An Open Road
There’s something about looking out a window at night on a long car ride. There’s nowhere for you to go, the conversation died down about 10 miles ago, and there’s nothing spectacular to look at. All you feel are the little imperfect bumps in the highway. All you see are the distant lights past acres and acres of field. Your thoughts start to wander about what you did that day and what you’re doing the next. But there comes a point when you’re not thinking about anything at all. You’re just…feeling. You’re feeling yourself physically moving forward in your life. You’re feeling present in this world. You’re feeling accounted for.
Those lights that are so far away from you are always there. But you don’t really know what they are. Maybe somebody’s home. Maybe a streetlight. No matter the source, it’s aiding to light up the distance. Like a star in the sky. Like the end of a tunnel. Like clarity to where on earth you’re going on your journey. Like a lamp to your eventuality.
You’re not there yet. You may not even be headed in that direction right now. But you know when you arrive, you’ll never be in the dark.
