There are always cars traveling any major road in the United States, day or night.
The vast majority of these cars are currently running on combustion engines, flying over the roads powered by a series of tiny controlled explosions. And many of these cars are driven by only one person. Yet they have the capacity to carry many passengers.
If you care about cutting down on polluting the air with exhaust and carbon emissions, you may have entertained the notion of never flying in an airplane again and only walking and using your bicycle. Yet, there is currently a vast river of fire out there, and it’s always moving in whatever direction you care to go.
With rideshares and planning ahead to coordinate rides, we make more efficient use of this resource.
I just took an extraordinary professional development class with the Nova Scotia Sea School. In it, we learned some sailing. But more importantly, every day, we followed a pattern of daily life that was remarkably fulfilling.
In the morning, we jumped into the water. Everyone. Into the north Atlantic. It was better than coffee, though that was served too.
We practiced what we called the “outward turn.” A small open-deck sailing boat with ten people on it can get claustrophobic, so each day, we would take some time and turn our backs to each other and look out across the water. It was a reminder of the vast space around us, and when we turned back, we were more spacious, relaxed, refreshed.
How can you take an outward turn every day, no matter where you are? How can you regain a sense of spaciousness?
As a writer, what does the outward turn offer your writing?
“We spend so much time thinking about what could go horribly wrong. But things can also go… horribly right. We could also think about that. Everything is impossible. So…”