Did You Find a Directing Sign?

 

I drove downtown a couple weeks ago to make a hand-off to a friend who was hosting an event. As we traded a couple of quick comments trunk-side, she invited me to join in her activity. I thanked her but declined saying, "I've already made one trip downtown this week."

I grew up living 20 miles away from New York City. Outside of my Dad bringing us in to work at his college or my aunt taking us to Broadway shows every so often, we almost never went there. Later, I worked in Chicago and managed the trains and buses in and out of the city for five years -- until I took a job in the 'burbs. Now, going to the city is largely for entertainment purposes, and I tend not to be the driver for those occasions.

Despite what you might be intimating, I do not dislike cities. They truly do have a quality and magnetism all their own. But me DRIVING in the city is another story entirely.

And life today seems like a nonstop ride in the city.

This view in the photo from my drive downtown brings back my palpitating heart and endless self-talking (and talking back to or alongside Google Maps).

• There's a pedestrian crosswalk. (Hopeful no one to my left gets clipped by a "turning vehicle" not yielding while making that right turn.)
• There are traffic lights.
• There's a bus stop sign. (No parking, by the way, if you are actually reading that far down the sign.)
• You can make the left onto N. 17th Street, but you can't make a right -- and even if you could, they're not telling you the street name.
• Parking lots that are meant for cars or ... maybe not? (cones)
• There's a train up ahead, directly perpendicular -- and don't miss that height indicator sign while you're counting the cars.
• Turn indicator signs are even further ahead, but difficult to see with that climb in the road.
• And, that yellow triangular sign on the right: BE ALERT New Traffic Pattern.

I have studied communication forever -- my academic pursuits, occupational endeavors, voluntary service and personal interactions. I notice many things and make a lot of connections from things communicated. I am struggling so much these days because the onslaught of communication from the myriad resources I connect with has become so overwhelming. It's like taking in this view -- all the time -- and trying to decipher how I'm supposed to get anywhere.

We are all facing the "new traffic pattern" of our current national administration. Caution. Be alert. It's all pointing to change, of course. I would even go so far to say that we are seeing a new traffic pattern for how changes are being made. While some are OK with venturing forward into the new traffic, some are thinking the veering off on N. 17th Street might be better. Honestly, I'm thinking about taking the risk, heading around those cones, and just sliding into that somewhat vacant parking lot.

I can't take it all in at the same time. I don't understand everything I'm seeing, or hearing, or reading. I have to question things and investigate. ("Why is N. 17th Street only labelled in one direction? I'm sure there's a reason." "Oh, there's fine print with important info -- No parking -- that people aren't noticing/sharing, probably because it's buried in other text.") There's clearly an issue with yielding to people in the roadway -- and that includes crowding the lane of the expression of thoughts and ideas not mutually shared.

When I get overwhelmed, I need to carve out time and space to process. (Seriously, that parking lot!). I need to do a self-check and re-regulate. I seek diversion. (So much for the slow-binge of Only Murders in the Building ). I re-prioritize my days and reaffirm what I know to be truth and necessary. My faith doesn't excuse me from being out on the road. "Jesus, Take the Wheel" might be what I'm singing, but I am still driving! I might have directions blaring from my phone, but I still have to take in the signs and others' reactions while "looking out at the road rushing under my wheels." [A song whose lyrics are worth a fresh dive down the rabbit hole.]

I know there are no visible people in this image, but there are people who will be (and already are) impacted by life in their travel on the city street these days. My refuge in the parking lot cannot last. New patterns can be embraced, negotiated, redrawn or, potentially, detoured. I have decisions to make.

I also look at this image and am reminded of "a city on a hill" -- one that cannot be hidden from view -- in the foreground. It's still ahead of me, despite all the things along the way. Not only that, but it is supposed to be me, too -- and, those around me: a quality and a magnetism all its own, shining its own light.

All to say, I can't in good faith and conscience give up driving. And, I'm not not driving in the city.

But....