On the freeways of California and in life, there are a lot of opportunities to try to get ahead of the flow. To weave, to accelerate, to tailgate, to bail out on the planned route and look for alternatives that may or may not work out better than the original. Or one can lane stay. Stay in the selected lane, a middle-ish lane, and move forward at the rate that lane allows with ease, not wishing it were faster or slower or different. Just staying.
Barring some aberrant stoppage, externally imposed detour, or potty break, one can drive like that for miles and miles and miles and miles and miles and miles and miles and miles.
Lane-staying, the world gets a little bit bigger. There’s space to see the sky, the land, the cars all around, not just the ones in front of me and right beside me.
I can be with my passengers more easily, breathing evenly through whatever kind of drivers move in and out of my view. I can be grateful I don’t have to twist and turn and effort like that anymore.
And I can breathe into it, this lane-staying new way of being. I can remember and trust that I’ll still get where I’m going. Maybe faster. Maybe slower. Definitely safer. Definitely more reliably. Definitely more pleasantly, more easily.
I’m gonna keep going.