I do not choose the easiest route to work each day. I choose the one that stretches out and circles around the airport before dipping back between fields towards home, or into the light of the city. It’s a rough road, not well tended. Winter has snapped huge cracks in the pavement. But it’s dreamy to me, the airport a portal to faraway places only seconds away. I haven’t flown out since October, but I love that road if only that it reminds me there is more to life than what I can see. That, and I’m not stuck here. Quite the opposite, I choose to be here. The same is true of my living situation. I live with my parents out of convenience and logic. But every now and then, on the bluer, quieter nights, I browse houses and apartments for my own. It’s my choice to live there, and sometimes the key to living well is to know you are not stuck.
(Image by Parker Fitzgerald)