My first year of college felt like a giant state of limbo. I still lived at home, I usually carpooled, and I couldn’t concentrate on a single piece of homework—except a few glorious moments in English class and about 2/3ds of my 2D design class. Otherwise, my feet were squirming with antsyness, impatient for my next step into independence.

My friend, Laurin, was in the same boat, traveling with me on cracked Arizona roads to class and back. One of our favorite things to do in this in-between state was to people watch.

Nowadays, most people have their ears to phones, or their gaze falls to their laps as they pretend they’re not texting while driving—but I want to talk about the times before we all became cell phone zombies—when people kept their eyes wide open and allowed life to overflow from the driver’s seat.

My observations from the ford pickup truck:

The opera singer.
These driver’s live in joy, tilting their heads and necks in the most awkward angles to “feel it.” They let their mouths drop open as if catching the mosquitoes that go splat on their windshield, but no—they’re not crazy, just happy. They must either love their jobs, love leaving their jobs, or are able to be content in that place in-between.

The Nose Pickers.
Your windshield is see-through, people. However, if you really don’t care then I don’t either. Except for the entertainment. I like to laugh while driving. Unless I’m on the way to lunch. Ew.

The Unexpressionist.
I assume you’re either a deep thinker—oblivious to the world around you–or your life is boring.
For the Thinker: Life is indeed profound and full of wild metaphors, but my car is not one of them—when traveling, please keep your attention on the road.
For the Bored: Life is not one bit boring. You might want to take the “back roads” just to remind yourself of this.

The smiler-waver on, “I’ll wait for you“-enthusiastic drivers.

You spread joy. Keep it up.

The bad news: Too many people don’t take advantage of the art of driver’s-seat-living anymore. We have become cell-phone zombies, the walking unpresent, the “who cares what God might be painting in this moment”, I-need-to-be-in-touch-with-the-next-moment right now types.

That’s absolutely the best thing to do if you don’t want to go anywhere.

Those in-between moments are the only things that will prepare you for the next road.
It’s the windshield that protects you from going into something you’re not ready for yet.

Otherwise, you may end up with a mouth full of bugs.

Drive awesome.