The old car was speeding down the highway, seemingly running from the dark clouds seen in the rear view’s cracked mirror. The window was down, drawing in the scent of wet grass and earthworms. Little specks of rain pepper the windshield. The cast of the sky’s colors were both ominous and mesmerizing. The sun and the billowing storm clouds dance together in an attempt to overtake the other. Corn fields align the road side. And there, up ahead on the horizon, a rainbow. Vivid, perfect and unbroken, arching from one side to the other.
I view this all from the passenger seat. It is when I realize that I am alone in this speeding car with no one at the wheel that I awake from maybe the most symbolic dream I’ve ever had in my entire life.
Who was in charge of this car in my dream? Whomever or whatever had successfully navigated me out of the storm, and had me headed on a path towards sunnier skies. Had my dream continued, the fear of not being in control or being alone, might very well have landed me on the side of the road. I know what I was about to do as I fumbled to take off my seat belt, climb over the arm rest, accidentally jerking at the wheel.
Who is driving my destiny? For this was not the road I set out to travel. I thought I had myself covered and was prepared with road maps, AAA, and satellite GPS, a co-piolet, I even checked the weather. Given the circumstances it feels naïve for me to believe that I ever was at the wheel of my own life. Or maybe I was, in all the simple and mundane of the everyday decisions and choices that I thoughtlessly made, or others made for me. How did I get so off course, or is this where I was destine to be regardless of all my precautions, careful planning and navigation?
Those co-piolets or shot gun map readers who are in charge of the radio…there have been many.
Including, a very special one who offered to share in the driving and navigation, merging our separate journeys into one. Ironically, we found one another because of road closings, pot holes and detours we didn't count on. That old country song, "God Bless the Broken Road." Yeah, we even turned it up and sang it out loud when the radio played it. Together we had to upgrade the vehicle and add a car seat.
But the journey is long; there are many stops, and extensive car maintenance.
Here at a crossroads.
How do you chuck a past and a future in one single turn?
“It was a good run,” I have bravely stated.
“Made the last payment.”
Do we trade her in, or stop and invest a little TLC and keep rolling forward collecting more memories.
Maybe this was all just but a bump in the road?
With cautious planning and great expectations I started out with my hands placed at 10 and 2, when really all I was grasping was good intentions, romantic notions and thin air. Speeding after the rainbow’s illusion.
In real life I am going to play out my dream like this.
I don’t have to drive, I can relinquish my keys to that promise I keep hearing every Sunday morning.
“God works all things for good for those that love him.”
While I am not going to take my seat belt off, I won’t panic and grab the wheel, because what is faith without works?
I will leave the past in the rear view looking back only as a reminder to myself that I survived, that I am a survivor!
I will focus more on the rainbows beauty ahead of me, singing as loudly as I want to with the radio, and of course take pictures of the view.
Good-bye fear, I am throwing you out the window.
(And I love this photo...the sky reminds me of my dream, minus the guy in the pink tutu. But he is pretty cool too, check out his story here! I love it when photographers can share their art and make someone's world a little better!)
