The Mind’s Traffic
Mornings—body is fresh after the shave, shower, and scent; so is the rested mind. Day’s work doesn’t tire. But the crazy bumper to bumper evening traffic on the city’s high-street sags the shirt, spine n spirit. “Una paloma blanca…” on the radio exhorts, but I am unable to soar.
I negotiate the terrifying traffic despite the horns and holes, heat and dust, smoke and fumes, shouts and stares. I spend sixty chaotic minutes on the road before I hit home. I endure the daily grind. I am sure, most of you too.
This triggers my thoughts.
Why, at times, my mind gets caught in the cobwebs of confusion? Why my thoughts can’t steer clear of the diversions, delusions, and distractions? I handle the traffic on the road with aplomb and reach the destination always. Why can’t I master my mind’s traffic, and avoid the bumps, dumps, and slumps?
Why my mind’s eye can’t see the light?
Is it because I drive my car, but I allow others to drive my thoughts—hence life?