the road less traveled

I drove past myself in the car last night.

What I mean to say is, I was passed by a guy who reminds me a lot of myself ... specifically, the way he sped past me in a huff because I was in a 40 zone doing -- imagine this -- 40. I can’t say that I blame him, because I’ve visited that same state of mind more than I care to admit. It’s almost like I’m offended, maybe even a little threatened, by someone who isn’t moving frantically enough toward an ultimate goal or appointment. In truth, it’s not that my own affairs have typically been all that pressing. It’s just that I’ve felt less vital, somehow, when I’m not moving a few paces faster than average. The thing is, I don’t really know that this has propelled me any further than I would have gotten otherwise. In the case of the guy who passed me, for instance, I watched his taillights fade into the darkness as he revved his engine impatiently. Then I watched them grow larger and larger as I caught up to him at the next stoplight. I smirked but resisted the urge to actually wave or applaud, as that would have come too close to making fun of myself. I did note with some amusement, however, that his vanity plates shouted “GAILFORCE.” Why, of course. Full of sound and fury, still sitting next to me at the intersection. What do we gain from all this haste? I’m not sure. But I am starting to notice what I’ve been missing along the way.

Interestingly, here’s one of those understated details: the decal in this gentleman’s back window. Just two simple words, “Finish Strong.” Now there’s something worth appreciating. In life, we mess up. We lose hope. We fall down, sometimes again and again. And as someone once lamented to me, we can never go back and make a brand new start. But we can start right now, and make a brand new ending.