Once again...I have been reminded of all of those things that I have so long ago forgotten.
I used to spend a lot of time driving. I started in high school, approximately at the age of sixteen. And it soon became an obsession. I wanted every time I left the house to see how fast and how far I could go in the time I had--whether it was constrained by an actual event or by my own preimposed sense of time. I would wind around the base of Mt. Rainier, following no actual map or direction, but instead just turning when it felt right and staying the road it seemed straight. I wanted to see where I could go if only I was left to my own devices, and never did I get lost. Instead, I found beautiful fields, and new towns; saw familiar faces in trees and flew by the same houses in my own neighborhood fifty miles away.
When I moved away to college I continued this habit, and I would get the itch to drive when I became too stressed out about classes or over work. There seemed nothing that a good adventure couldn't fear. The irony that I was literally running away from my problems never escaped me. However, I came back refreshed, sometimes with a new perspective, and always with an appreciation for the creation that was so much bigger then me.
It seems that I have forgotten, again, about this principle. There is more than me out there. There is a sky that has no sense of time but only breathes twice in my 24 hours. There is a wind that seems to come and go as it pleases and never asks for permission though someone or something has authority over it. There is a beautiful sun that rises on some days and sets on most, and chooses to blind me every day when I argue with it. These things are much more than me, and still, I forget that they exist in spite of myself: regardless of my own power or lack thereof, they will continue doing what they're doing because they can. And even when it seems I can't, I can find peace in knowing that I have nothing to do with anything, and that if all I did was drive, the sun would still rise.