The Slow Lane to Finding Yourself
At the End of Courage
“I thought of our life out there as music: vigorous but contained, resplendent but played as an adagio.” — Gretel Ehrlich.
Movies and novels romanticize life on the road.
It’s a carefree existence away from everyday life.
But as the miles stretch out, the romance fades, revealing a heart that holds more than the day’s happiness.
Sometimes the raw confrontation with oneself.
My question took over a decade.
During one of my regular calls home, my mother’s words cut through the highway.
“You know, you don’t have to rush through life like a race. Sometimes, the slow lane has the best views.”
Her voice, always of concern and wisdom, prompted me to pause.
She was in our family home. There was nothing but an open road ahead and behind.
“But isn’t life about reaching your goals as fast as you can?” I asked, the rebellious child in me not yet ready to concede.
She laughed and said, “It’s about living your life. You rush too much. What are you running from?”
That questions lingered long after our call ended.
What was I running from?
Or was it toward something I never seemed to reach?
Deciding to take my mother’s advice to heart marked in my travels.
I began to reduce my hours on the road.
I chose to spend days in small towns.
I talked with locals and saw life at a pace I had before shunned.
I learned about the town’s rich history from people.
Not from books or museums but from the stories they told in diners and on street corners.
I discovered the places I visited. It was not solid and fast but beautiful in its simple, unadorned reality. My experiences became meaningful. I wasn’t passing through; I was part of the scene, if only for a while.
The slow lane taught me lessons about myself and others.
Patience, once a stranger to me, became a close confidant. I learned to savor moments, like the way the sunset painted on deserts with unreal colors.
I learned about resilience.
Life on the road was challenging. There were breakdowns, mechanical and emotional. There were days when loneliness crept in like an uninvited guest. Yet each challenge was a lesson in disguise, teaching me to endure, adapt, and overcome.
Everyone would think that life in the slow lane becomes mundane, but the truth is quite the opposite. Slowing down helps you recognize the life that you may have missed. For me, it was discovering the small changes in scenery. The change in dialects as I moved from one place to another. The varied rhythms of local music. And that each community I visited cherished.
Routine is not dullness.
It is about understanding and appreciating my surroundings. I began to observe, not with the intent to see but also with the desire to understand and connect.
Traveling also allowed me to practice mindfulness in a way I had never done before. Mindfulness — the art of being present — became a practice and a way of life on the road. Each day was a meditation. I might be by a crackling campfire under the stars or facing mechanical failures.
This influenced my decisions, my relationships, and my understanding of happiness.
I learned that happiness did not live in the end. It was in itself.
This connection to the land encouraged me to advocate for environmental preservation. The cause became as important as any destination I had sought.
I now think how important such conversations are. They set all this in motion. I had them with my mother. They have the power to redirect our paths and reshape our perspectives.
The road stretches on, not before me but within me, leading to unexplored places in my heart and mind.
What might happen if you shift into the slow lane?
Thanks for taking the time to read. I’d like to hear your perspective.
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