The sun shines cheerily amidst a clear, blue sky. I alternately sing along to old favorites and sit in silence, lost in thought. I love going solo on road-trips. I don’t have to make conversation or consult with a passenger about which music to listen to, when to stop for bathroom breaks, or how far the day’s journey should be. It’s a beautiful sort of loneliness, one made tolerable, perhaps, because I actually enjoy my own company.
It can be difficult to establish oneself in any given place with an affliction like wanderlust, though I’m learning to see it as more of a blessing than a curse. In the past ten years, I’ve never stayed in one location longer than two years at a time, and in those instances, I made damn sure to hit the road for mini-trips every few months. As a result, I’ve made friends in every city around the world, friends that urge me to come back soon, friends that welcome me into their homes on short notice with strong drinks and homemade meals, ready to stay up late into the night and reminisce about our fun times passed. Friends that mean something.
Frank Sinatra was once quoted as saying, “The secret of life is to keep moving.” Ol’ Blue Eyes knew his shit. Whenever I feel myself falling into a funk, whenever my spirits begin to languish, I get into my car and drive. There’s something about literal physical movement that stirs one’s insides into a flurry of ambitious inspiration. On a smaller, less dramatic scale, an activity as simple as an evening stroll around the neighborhood is often enough to spark perspective, reawakening lust for life anew.
Not all of my destinations have turned out the way I’d initially hoped or planned; however, each one was beneficial. If I can drive away carrying more knowledge than I’d possessed when I first arrived, it was worth it. If my perspective has been altered in such a way that I’ve grown into a savvier, more well-rounded human being, it was a success. Nothing ventured, nothing gained.
In that sense, my experience in Seattle is one I will always be grateful for.
As I return to California, I hit the seek button on my car’s radio. One station after another lands on Mexican music, and I smile, knowing that I am home.
[Read Part 1: Road Revelations: So Long, Seattle, Part 2: Road Revelations: Pit Stop Etiquette, and Part 3: Road Revelations: The Luck Dragon.]
Author: Britt Warner
