The clear headed-ness that resulted from those many drives was almost always accompanied with this sense that the life in front of me very much mirrored the road in front of me in that my options were vast and choice didn't seem muddled. I remember distinctly driving back from visiting Paul - the long 5 and 1/2 hours from Shreveport to Tulsa on a clear blue sky day- the kind of days that story books and fairy tales are made out of. I was listening to the Counting Crows and it hit me like a rogue wave; the life laid out before me was limitless. All of the dreams and secret wishes that everyone has, but aren't always spit out were there within arms reach and not, like I usually relegated myself to thinking, unattainable. The freedom in that thought and overwhelming feeling of contentedness was so fragrant.
Now that some years have passed since the free willed, responsibility-less days of college I still maintain that those secret desires are still attainable, but as you grow into an adult and responsibility sucks you in and oppresses your free spirit you so easily displayed as a child, your own wishes become more easily brushed aside.
There are moments, albeit fewer, where I get the same rush that rushes through every pore of my being that this life is full of options. Leaning against my back porch door as the rain comes pouring down on a young April day, or the sunrise that sprinkles light onto my favorite patch of farm land as I drive to work in the morning I am struck yet again. In those cherished moments you are not boxed out and categorized, you are not slated to run out the same perfunctory tasks for the next 30 years, but instead your options are still vast and choices easy. Typically, those moments come when I find myself taking a breath from life. If only I could bottle the smell of the rain or the wind in my hair as I push the speed limits on a vehicle free highway in the middle of God's country. But like I said, life is a journey...and the journey itself is home, so I'll keep on driving.
