Today as I’m driving to work, it clicked. I finally figured out one of the reasons I hate traffic so much. Not necessarily the rush hour commute (which, arguably, is traffic at its worst), but all forms of traffic (or most forms).
Traffic is the perfect real-world metaphor for what our society has become. We box ourselves in…and try to get where we’re going and fuck anyone that tries to cut us off or get in our way. Some people blast ahead, not paying attention to any of the signs. Others move at a slower pace and get passed by. Still others deftly maneuver…allowing people to pass or cut in their lane. As metaphors go, it’s one of my most perfect. You even have derailment….accidents. And you can see how your life (your car) affects the lives (cars) of everyone around you. If you life a reckless life (drive like an asshole)–someone’s going to get hurt…and it’s not necessarily you. There are people in our lives trying to police things…make sure we follow the rules, the pre-determined ebb and flow. But you’re still free to speed…breaking the laws of nature, if you will.
Sometimes you ride with others. But for the most part…we travel alone on life’s highways.
It never ceases to amaze me how traffic affects me. How the driving (living) of others can impact my mood and outlook. Someone’s driving like an asshole…and it infuriates me. Someone is polite and kind, it sets the tone for the whole day.
Ironically, the days I enjoy the commute the most is when I’m in my little container on the highway and just doing my own thing. Singing…having dialog with myself (what? I’m the only one who talks to myself…whatever). On those days I hardly notice the cars around me and I’m happy.
Happy to just be doing my thing.
And then some asshole cuts me off and brings me crashing back in to their reality.
I wonder. Which is safer? A road full of cars or a completely empty highway?
I guess that depends on the driver.