When I feel restless, I drive.
I like the back country roads around town. Reminds me of being home in Kansas– pure stars and no streetlights.
My feet were cold, the heat was blasting, and I drove around in the dark.
Sometimes loneliness is a beautiful thing. It feels good just to cry, to feel. To know you’re alive.
So many hate winter. But I see it as a time of rest, of quiet. Summer is manic in comparison. Everyone is outside, there are music festivals constantly. Tons of loud music. Traffic gets worse.
I listened to one track, over and over. I love doing that. And I drove for at least an hour. It was a song I won’t name.
But earlier I bought a copy of Rolling Stone, to read in my hands the article about Pope Francis. He makes me hopeful.
A friend in college who I’ve know lost touch with, Brad, once told me that “Everyone is uncomfortable, all of time.”
And isn’t that true? Aren’t we all awkward, just bumbling along, hoping to connect with others? Unsure of the pivotal decisions we make every day, leading with what we know and hoping for the best? Maybe some are unilaterally assured at all times. But I imagine this loneliness only gets worse the more you know, the more you have, the more power you accrue.
Today I’m glad I’m just one small person in this big world. There’s a lot I don’t know, but there’s a lot of people I can ask for help, too.
I bet I’m a lot less lonely than Pope Francis, or even God. I don’t have the responsibilities they do.
And it reminded me of one of my favorite 90’s songs, “One of Us,” by Joan Osborne.
Pope Francis just might be one of us. But we’re all out there underneath the same stars.