Never a Good Driver

I don’t think I’d ever become a good driver.

I am terrible with direction, and getting lost is my favorite pastime when traveling. I seldom commit landmarks to memory; and on the few occasions that I try to, my brain would refuse to accept, let alone, store them. There are even times that I fail to notice that such landmarks exist, no matter how big or prominent they are. 

One of the things I enjoy the most is being mobile. It is one of the magic moments that I cherish, because it is when I am traveling (or even simply walking) that my mind becomes very free, managing to discard the structures with which it is wired, and to enter a different realm or order.  

I see the places I pass by, I see the people I meet, and I hear the sounds, but I don’t really see nor hear them, because my mind is on a different plane, somewhere away from the chaotic world, some place beyond the reach of everyday worries and concerns. 

It is almost mystical that when I am mobile, I clearly hear the different conversations in my mind, and I can actually start and finish an article in my head, because it is during this time that the words weave themselves together and beg me to put them on paper. Most of the ideas I’ve put on paper, they were conceived while I was traveling. 

No, I don’t think I can ever become a good driver; I am too lousy for that. And I know there will be many more instances that I’d find myself lost even in familiar places.  But I don’t worry. I can always find my way back. MOreover, it is when I get lost that I learn a lot.

.

//Sherma E. Benosa; 30 March 2008; 12:13am