The journey

I don't know whether I've blogged about this before or not, but even if I have, I'm going to write about it again.

I remember several years back, in the 90's, there was a series of commercials for Nissan with a little Japanese man and his dog (I think it was a Jack Russell Terrier). The tag-line of the commercials was, "Life is a journey, enjoy the ride!" While generally, there's not much wisdom in television commercials, there was a deep seed of truth in that single statement.

In my mind there are three basic types of people:

1. Those who focus on the journey and enjoy every moment of life regardless of where the journey takes them.
2. Those who focus on their destination but pay no attention to anything along the way. These folks usually don't appreciate their destination once they get there and can't wait to leave to go someplace else.
3. Those who are still rummaging around looking for their road map.

Life is indeed a journey full of everything from potholes to grand vistas. Some people only take the highway so they can get to where they are going faster. Others of us always look for the back roads and stop at every tourist trap along the way.

I am one of the latter. I love back roads. Sure, I could get there faster on the highway, but then I'd miss everything along the way. Highways are generally quite boring with nothing but grass and trees on either side. It's a picture of my life. The way I see it, I could focus on great achievement, but then I would miss the little successes. Heck, I wipe noses and bottoms for a living, and most people wouldn't see that as a huge accomplishment, but I've seen the change in the men I work with and it has made it worthwhile, If I were focused on "advancing my career," I'd have trouble enjoying the little joys, like hearing a "non-verbal" individual start to speak full sentences, or like hearing "I miss you," from a more difficult client.

I sit on my scooter and I buzz around and watch the other people in their metallic cages. They don't smile. They hardly even seem alive. They fill their boredom by cranking up the radio or chatting on their cell phones. They don't look too awfully happy, but here I am on my little scooter with a goofy grin on my face.

I feel sorry for them. They remind me of the writer of Ecclesiastes.