Leaving Home, Heading Home

Wake up, 4:30 AM. Shave, shower, pack. On the road by 5:00 AM, sipping on cheap ass gas station coffee and trying to wake up. For the first hour or so, I was pretty laid back… but as the sun rose and the coffee bubbled in my bloodstream, I opened up more and more to the day.

In high school, I had a choir teacher who taught us the fundamental rule regarding musicals. In a musical, when a character breaks into song… they do so because nothing else (speech, dance, motion) can express their emotions. Song happens because nothing else suffices.

This morning, I started singing at the top of my lungs because the day was starting, the sun was shining, and I felt happy and alive. Unable to tell anyone how I felt, or explain what I was feeling or write down these sensations… I broke out into song.

From what I recall, I was belting out "Long Tall Sally," by Little Richard. :)

Here’s what the day looked like:

At the time I took this video, I was listening to Nico’s "These Days," which I got from Mr. Grumpy. The onset of the sun was a strong enough counter against the rather dark lyrics, and I felt perfectly balanced between happy and sad. The lyrics are, in my opinion, really depressing… but hearing this song in full daylight offset things, and I wanted to capture what I was seeing around me at the time.

All around me, I got this warm sense of possibility. It may very well have been the coffee kicking in, but I don’t care. I felt an incredible sensation rush over me. Houses that I passed were possible houses where I could live. Cars and homes contained lives that could be mine, if I decided to stop. Anything was feasible and only a matter of deciding to dig in and root down. I could do and become anything I wanted.

To my left, the moon was high up, lingering and pale. To my right, the sun was breaking into day. And in front of me, there was nothing but what felt like an endless stretch of road.

For the briefest of moments, I felt the sort of optimism that I used to have as a teenager. You know what I mean, unbridled and absolute optimism, the kind that’s powerful because of its lack of cynicism. I felt like I was sixteen again, driving a car for the first time, slowly realizing that as long as I had gas in the tank I could keep moving.

That’s what I felt this morning.

Today, I remembered how much, how very much I love driving in the mornings. Sometimes it feels like my chest is being slowly pried open, and sunlight is pouring into every part of me. Times like that, I wish there was someone else, someone who I could be sharing that moment with. Maybe I’m wrong to want to share this; maybe it’s something I’ll only ever be able to feel driving alone.

8:25 AM. Arrive home, unload car.

8:40 AM. Walk to train, head to work.