I have so many memories of the road. Living in the area around Western, NC up to Tennessee, and sometimes further South down to Georgia. My mind is full of memories of scenes like this all the way back to childhood. Honestly, it's one of the main defining memories of my childhood. Living so far from things, having made day trips to go some place, and the trees and headlights passing by on the dark drive home at night.
But for my adult life, the road mostly only reminds me of work. Places I've worked, and the drive to get there. Usually long, waking up before daylight every day to drive two hours (or sometimes more) to some site, or to start my route on the road all day. And the most poignant of those memories for me have been alone. Or feeling alone, in some way, among some group of people I'd been working with that year, or on that job.
Some memory of driving to get somewhere to begin, or driving to get somewhere to end the day. Always on some time contrasting with those around me. Passing people in suits leaving their jobs at 5:00 knowing I wouldn't be home till long after dark, or for days. Knowing I still had hours to go, miles to go. Or taking a break by some newly discovered spot where I just wanted to stop to stare for a while, or maybe explore on foot, or some memorized favorite exit on the highway I knew like the back of my hand.
So much of my life has passed in those places. In travelling the road itself. And I think in some way there's always been a comfort in it, because there's a feeling always like you're going somewhere, getting somewhere - moving. Even if it is just a more protracted 'back and forth' than what most people do in a day on their usual commute. It's a hopeful kind of forward movement. And I do know the feeling as the years have passed, of that having changed - from the initial youthful feeling of thinking the whole world is ahead to be discovered, to more of a soothing familiar feeling of escape. Escape from a daily life back home that hasn't changed much, or gone as far, or to the places I'd hoped it might go. Whether satisfied in a situation or not, every day driving back and forth hoping for the things that might change, and for the future ahead you think you're working to build.
And yeah, after many years have passed, the same realization has happened to me too. I've realized while working, that the best part of my day was that drive. That moment of coming or going. And I learned to revel in it, or at least comfort myself with it, intentionally. With my love of music and nature, I found it as a way to combine enjoyment of the two. And I honestly think this reality is a uniquely American thing. And even unique to our working class. The American highway and road is such a poetic thing - and such a privilege of ours considering what money we sink into our cars, and our fuel, and other amenities, and the road itself (hah, sometimes) - and a place to get lost and find yourself all at the same time. In different ways, often while going to or from a place you've been many times before. No drive is exactly the same. No day is either. And maybe that's why such a routine has a draw to it. I know many who have only ever worked this way, (truck drivers, and tradespeople, and restless people) and I don't think they'd last a day working any other way. Like a rat all the same, but maybe just more trapped.
The natural world around us is so breathtakingly beautiful, and free...of money and constraint...and most of all, us. At least where we allow it to be. (And I'm partial to the Appalachian area, myself.) But it's what we've made of it that's so ugly.
On my last job, I had a routine of going outside at a certain point in the day, had to walk a little for that task, and I'd made a ritual of looking at what was around me, even photographing it if I found a reason or had a minute. And it's what kept me going, and kept me positive and thankful, besides the fact of watching all those around me doing the same thing, in the same boat working. I think one of the biggest flaws in my thinking in the past, was to ever doubt that those around me experienced the same feelings that I did. I think very many of us are in the same proverbial boat, or car, or whatever it may be in life moving us - to get somewhere. Trying to get from one place or point to another.
Because...only because, this is the world we've made for ourselves. I've felt the same way for a very long time. Every single day. It's ugly and hard, and we all know there's a better way, (and surely a worse), but as long as you remind yourself at the same time how beautiful it is, I think you'll get by alright.
It's the only way I've ever found. It's the most natural way I found to cope with things. And it's all I'm going to say about it, unless you want me to start musing on train journeys too.
You might be a peasant to some, but you're the backbone to this country, and the only reason the rich have any money at all. We all are. It's out of balance and it's never been 'right', and I think we all feel it in some way. To find healthy ways of coping is the best advice I can think to give, because I've seen all too much what becomes of those who don't.