You can’t miss Philadelphia’s streetcars. They’re everywhere, proudly barreling down the middle of the streets, cars making way for the 30 ton relics.

Streetcars are a lot like buses; they travel along the road and have similar capacity. The difference is they drive on tracks. This has two major implications. First, the tracks significantly reduce friction. The wheels are designed to fit the tracks perfectly so they glide along smoothly, making for a quiet and comfortable ride. The tracks help get people where they’re going quickly and efficiently. Second, the tracks reduce complexity by ensuring that routes remain constant, making it easier for passengers to understand and drivers to navigate.

People are a lot like streetcars.

I grew up on smooth tracks. The precision with which my wheels fit the tracks made for reduced friction and increased efficiency. And the fixed routes made it easy to understand which ways I could and could not go if I wanted that wonderful gliding feeling.

This past May I sat in the bleachers as I watched all of my regalia-draped friends graduate from college on a spring day about as pristine as they come. I sat alone in the bleachers sipping a Capri-Sun, wondering whether I was supposed to feel bad about being 23 and having another year of college. When I was 18 I spent the better part of a year studying Jewish philosophy and then worked on a farm in Spain. After my freshman year I took a year to pursue design when an opportunity presented itself to me to lead design at a company I respect. I’m spending my last semester of college in Scotland. Then I’m moving 6000 miles from where I grew up. People have done far wilder things, but in my own small way I’ve strived to derail.

Squinting at the class of 2014 from the bleachers, I couldn’t find reason to feel bad. Literally hundreds of them are going into careers in finance and corporate consulting. Those are some smooth tracks. Those tracks are going to get them where they’re going comfortably and efficiently, without too much navigation

But I believe in derailing.

When you derail, the ride suddenly gets very bumpy. Those wheels are designed for track, not open, undirected road. Efficiency decreases, things get loud, your wheels are damaged. But when you get used to all the rattling—and you never really do—you realize that you can drive anywhere. You never even realized you were on tracks and suddenly you can see how much they dictated your course. You realize how little you had to think about where to go and how that prevented you from thinking about your destinations. You come to realize that you don’t have to stop at set stations, that you can go to any city you want or even take a drive out into the country. Heck, you could even stop driving for a minute.

Maybe you’ll have reason to get back on the tracks from time to time—and there’s nothing wrong with that—but your wheels will have changed shape, always reminding you of the derailed life and your ability to drive out into the country with your windows open.