Drive it like you stole it.

There are these roads that exist out in the middle of New Mexico. Hundreds of miles of blacktop where you won't see another car for hours. A few years back, I was driving down one of these roads in a 300 horsepower muscle car doing about 90 miles-per-hour.  I had spent the last few days driving from North Carolina to California. I was blasting down the highway for hours with the top off and the radio up, when I came up on a State Trooper. Though I was behind him, he immediately knew that my approach was in excess of the posted speed limit, and turned on his lights.

I don't own a car here in Cardiff. I no longer get my daily intoxication of shifting gears or the rush of pushing tons of steal to its limits around a corner. The speed of my life is now dictated by how I race from one moment to the next. Unfortunately, there are no roll cages in life, no off-ramps, just continual perpetual momentum from person to person, situation to to situation. There are no caution flags in this race.  That said, every moment here has been filled with adrenaline and high stakes.

A few nights ago I was sitting with a friend. This person asked me a provocative question. I answered truthfully. It was one of those answers, had this person had chosen to ask me in a more sober environment, I might have been smart enough to avoid. There was no avoiding it this time. I was forced to step outside of the safety of seat-belts, unbuckled, fragile, and breakable. I took my hands off the wheel and may have wrecked everything. They say that the truth will set you free, but for the last few days, I feel like I've hit the curb, and the I'm flipping over, end over end, in an uncontrollable crash.

Upside down in the wreckage, crawling from a puddle of gasoline, trying to stand again, If you get in the car enough times, wrecking is inevitable. I tell myself that what really matters is that you walk away from it. That despite the truth, your friendship goes beyond the fires that you set to yourselves.

When I came up on the State Trooper I had a  choice to make. I could pull over and end the journey or keep going. When I pulled up in the left lane next to him, I looked into his eyes, a portly, mustached, middle-aged cop, who was angrily mouthing expletives through his window. In that moment,  I knew I didn't have a choice. We never really do. You can accept fate or make your own. I was sitting in a vehicle with a top speed in excess of 160 miles-per-hour, and I was one gear shift away from taking back control of my life.

I can't apologize for what drives me in life, I can only keep racing towards the sun, moment to moment, mile after mile. The chase is what makes life worth driving. Drive life like you stole it.


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