Lost In America

jlm2And so life rolls along. Like the miles we ride the years also pass by. Some blurry, some as clear as the images in a photograph. They keep passing by none-the-less, taking no effort to recall. The miles and years we travel through are worn on our sleeve for all to see, and are a direct reflection of who we are. Young and full of life, or old, dusty and tired, it doesn’t matter. Only the road we’ve traveled makes a true difference to the images in our minds.

We can pick any road to travel on, and in so many ways life is the same way. To some extent the path is already chosen for us, but it’s the little detours and curves and the bumps in the road that can alter the direction at any given time. So we press on to find out “where” we’re going all the while not knowing if it’s the direction we “should” be going. Lost in America, looking for the meaning of “The Road.”

Some have the “balls to the wall” mentality while others are more cautions and calculated. I’m along for the ride no matter what. Age dictates the speed and recklessness for which we travel through life, but as I get older the days go faster than I want them to. But whether we like it or not, the journey happens every day. Headed down the road or getting through the day, it’s going to happen. We can choose to sit and stare straight ahead, or take in the scenery. You pick, after all it’s your life. Me? I’ll be taking in the scenery.


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