Up early, and driving.  Again, early.

So many on the Road….  Where are they going?  Who are they?

Then, naturally, because I can’t leave a question just a question—

Who am I?  Where am I going?   What is my next stop, appointment, obligation, daily ‘to-do’??

At my desk.  This day, in front of me..

Promising, provoking… PROMISING.

Sun still reducing for its show, latte lowering.

With this feeling while I have it, exploring its origin and chords, its music, where the travel takes my self-talk.

Thinking is everywhere and unusually centralized.  Several Roads arriving at the same small intersection.  It’s this early hour, I’m learning from being in movement this early.

I know that feeling from handing over a page, waiting while someone reads.  What if I keep it to myself, and only share it with YOU, reader….

A new Road, and then you might actually see where you’re going.

Here, starting the week— Monday, a Road ahead, learning here, then home…. still learning.

And lately, everything seems to reach me with more force. Getting married, my wife—still loving my language and mood and thoughts and EVERYTHING around those two words.

MY.WIFE.

There she is.

Maybe some of this heightened feeling comes from paying attention to what we’re building while we’re building it.  I can feel it following me into other rooms.  Into yesterday’s conversations.  Into the questions I ask, how long I listen, how willing I am to try something before I’ve worked out every possible outcome.

“That’s just Philosophy,” someone might say.

Well, yes.  And no… why does it need a label?

This morning I open the notes.  Read yesterday’s idea.  One more time…

Something from a conversation returns, and I write it atop the original scribble.  An exercise I could try.  A question worth asking YOU, reader…

Why can’t we just let ourselves be calm and delight in the act of movement, travel… the Zen of ONE LANE??

The latte is gone, past, another part of the Road…. But there is more.  More story, more thoughts.

No ends, only launches.

I add another line, one word.

Choices.

All these exits, each promising something, each capable of getting me to turn my head.  I don’t need to take them all, or even munch mind  every possibility until the morning’s gone and my coffee tastes like the inside of a cabinet.  Some can pass.  I can wonder briefly about a road without owing it an afternoon of investigation.

There’s relief in watching a sign disappear behind me, staying with this direction, mine.

This deserves my attention, too—the Road I’m actually on. My wife, the page.  Enough here to be curious about for years.  I’m learning to give a choice time to become something before questioning it into exhaustion.  Grateful for this realization….

Enjoying this new ride.  Not overthinking…. Loving what I notice when I stop preparing to turn.