Today, I was chauffeured by a
strong wind and a burst of song. I don’t really know who drove my car home from
shopping this morning. I seemed to be so engaged in singing an old familiar
song that was playing on the radio. I sang loudly in the car as I sat behind
the wheel and took every turn with a joy in my heart that sounded from my lips.
Although I couldn’t remember all the words to this oldie, I sang on. It felt so
liberating to be able to belt out a song where no one could hear the cracking and
wandering of my voice. I thought I was truly present in that moment but I
probably should have been paying more attention to the road. I was glad that I
had chosen to take the back roads home on this dry but blustery winter day.
Passing old barns and silos and country homes with charming front porches, I
felt I was at last learning to navigate these country roads more confidently.
I arrived safely in my
driveway and only then did I realize that I must have been driving on autopilot all the
way home. I sat in my car a few moments and gave thanks for my safe arrival but
began to wonder: who was really in control of my vehicle all along?
