Travelling these days allows a sense of wonder, if you let yourself feel it. The novelty of many modes of transportation may have worn off many years ago (now, we can even hear about the victorious land of a space shuttle with a sense of "been there, done that). However, if you open yourself to the experience of getting from point A to point B in whatever your chosen mode, you can experience a reflective meditation (on trains), a venture of pure faith (on planes), or a complete sensory withdrawl of your environment (automobiles.)
Every day, I am in my car for 1-1.5 hours during my commute to and from work in Downtown LA. Part of that time, I am at a dead stop. It's probably one of the most stressful parts of my day, especially driving back home when it's dark. Part of what makes it scary is that, for all the control you
think you have....control of the temperature in the car, control of the stereo of the car, the security that comes from your seatbelt, and your decision of how fast or slow to drive...there will almost always be at least a split second (only a split second if you're lucky) that reminds you there are thousands of other people out there who are "in control" as well...and one of them almost didn't see you passing in his blindspot.
I'm reluctant to say there's a "meditation" there, because I've been one of those drivers who "gets in the groove" and then can't remember the details of how I got home from work. I'm always thankful that I got home and a little scared that maybe I was the one who cut someone off and caused their "out-of-control" realization without knowing it. However, there is a meditation in here that perhaps you could ponder once you've exited your 2-ton personal valet - we are never, truly, in control.
This meditation only rings true for those who may believe at least part of what I believe. In this case, it speaks to the part of me that says we always have choices, but we're not in control of the outcome. I don't believe that everything is written in the stars (although I've been known to say "it's destiny! when something goes right...), but I truly feel that we are all given choices in life - to be happy or sad, to be thankful or ungrateful, to be aware or unaware of our surroundings. Some people may have to make a more conscious effort to go towards their decision - I'm not suggesting that people with severe depression can just "choose" to be happy and it will be so - but the decision is always there.
Today, I wish for you to choose an awareness of your decisions and how they affect you, your loved ones, and maybe even that doofus in front of you who cut you off.
Namaste,
Lacey