Traffic

Who are all these cars driving next to me?

I’m sitting in my car,

on my way to my appointment that’s scheduled in 20 minutes,

and I want to be there on time.

But all these other cars are in my way.

Who are they, though?

Are they a car?

A chunk of metal that’s purposefully cutting in front of me to make me late?

Are they deliberately traveling at the same time in order to make my morning more difficult?

Or are they also someone in a car?

Are they also listening to music,

going to their next appointment,

wanting to get there on time

and to enjoy their morning?

Are they also having thoughts about me?

Am I just another chunk of metal,

or are these other chunks of metal just different versions of me?

On the road, maybe we aren’t all just cars.

Maybe we are all just different versions of ourselves,

all having our own days

in these little vehicles.

When we drive past someone sitting in the driver’s seat

and look at them in the eyes,

we realize they are not just another vehicle.

They are fleshy.

They want to enjoy their morning.

They want to get to their appointment on time.

How did we all start seeing each other as just little chunks of metal?

And how can we go back to seeing ourselves as ourselves again?

Perhaps we can imagine everyone driving next to us without a car,

just magically floating down the road together at sixty miles an hour.

Perhaps we can imagine all of us walking down the sidewalk together,

brushing up against each other,

touching each other’s skin,

hearing each other breathe.

Even though we are the child of someone different,

all our ancestors are the same.

We are the same.

We are not just chunks of metal –

we are fleshy.

And we all just want to enjoy our morning.