I am taking steps toward the edge. Sanity is the luggage I am unable to fit into my car anymore. Sure, I am tired of paying exorbitant prices for gasoline, but it's the guilt and futility I experience when trapped in my car that fuels by ire for automobiles.
When, in the past, I had chosen to commute to work in the car, I felt dread at having to sit behind the consuming engine at stop signs and "politely" wait for cell-phone drivers to acknowledge the fact that they were behind the wheel of a car, not, in fact, sipping a venti macchiatto while ordering a new pair of Land's End Mocs.
Now on bike (mostly) my mind wanders far away from (ironically) mind-mocking other solo drivers, floats up to the foothills, on trails, down shady secondary streets with people in their front yards enjoying life. In the past week, on a commute back home from work, I thought for a moment my speed was so great that it had made my eyes water. Turns out the wind in my ears, smell of fresh-cut grass, and lack of a rumbling monstrosity chugging me home had "thought" me to a rock on the shore of the ocean - wind blasting through me, the sun sinking, orange and warm. It was that sweet tear of joy, thanks, bike!
Take my car, please! Leave me no more chances to spoil my commute, my day, my life.
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