Alone on the Road

Years of driving to and from work in the city had worn me out… emotionally and mentally. Physically, I can keep up with the fastest drivers because my 2004 Mini Cooper continues to be fun, quick and responsive, but the mental tension was getting to me. So many bad decisions are made every day on today’s roads, it just boggles my mind, and I found myself getting more and more outraged by it all.

So, when my husband and I moved to a farm in a rural area, I reasoned that the driving situation should improve. The calm and quiet of our 10-acre farm was a wonderful change from the bustle of city life and suburbia, and I hoped that it would offset the longer drive. I quickly discovered that I was now joining all the other commuters who spend their weekends on their happy little farms and estates and spent their weekdays driving back and forth an hour or more to those same old urban jobs. It was acceptable for a couple of years, but then the tension of the job rose and combined with the tension of the drive, and I made the decision to look for greener pastures in my employment, to match those green pastures of my home.

I eventually found what I wanted. Now I drive from my rural address in one small town to another small town, on back roads where I am usually the ONLY driver in sight. Now I can enjoy the gorgeous sunsets, marvel over morning icy fog hovering over the fields in white stratus layers and see the sparkle of frost on the bushes beside the road. Now I can enjoy looking at the old farms and homes, and pondering what life was like for those who lived there 100 years ago. Now I look at the new homes being built and the for-sale signs and I wonder who will be next to move into the area and whether the new residents will appreciate the country as much as I do, and I hope it doesn’t become as crowded as the suburb from which we just escaped. Now I can appreciate the beauty around me, instead of staring at someone’s taillights. It’s my own personal form of meditation. A calming of the mind, and a chance to transition from my house-persona to my office-persona and back again.

When we first moved to this location, a friend asked me to describe – in one word – what I loved most about being here. My answer: horizons. I love being able to see to a distant horizon over open fields. For some reason, it brings me a peace of mind that the cityscape just cannot accomplish.

There are some downsides to this utopia. If my old Mini dies on me, it could be a long wait for help on those empty back roads. I also constantly need to be alert for deer and other wildlife crossing the road, especially at sunset; I would be mortified if I took a life on my happy little commute. And I need to be comfortable driving in sketchy conditions because salt trucks are slow to hit those less-traveled byways.

There are good points and bad to every decision in life. I sacrificed a good-paying job for a smaller paycheck, but I am happier and more relaxed, and obviously I like the commute more. At this stage in my life I feel that I need to reduce the tension and try to be more in touch with the world around me; not caught up in the rat-race. I don’t know if it’s sustainable, but it works for me, right here, right now. My point of view has been greatly improved, as I drive alone on the road.