The Icy Cucaracha

This morning's drive to work was fun.

I was expecting the back roads to be in bad shape, and they were. I took them slowly and got through them OK.

There was little traffic on the road, so no pressure to drive too fast in dangerous conditions.

Someone was stuck on one of the off-ramps to 33 West.

I couldn't help shovel this person out because there was nowhere to stop and people behind me.

Hope she/he got out OK.

There were a few idiots on the road who thought it was smart to drive fast when the lanes were clear, but mostly people were careful, which is a relief, because the snow on 33 is plowed unevenly, and every now and again two lanes become one and you can only hope the person in the lane you're suddenly forced to merge with isn't one of the geniuses driving like nothing bad could ever happen.

Everyone on the road was basically considerate of each other. At one point I had to make a left turn at a green light and the person on the opposite side of the light needed to go straight. I waited while his car pushed slightly uphill through a pile of soft, unplowed snow. His wheels spun, trying to get traction. The back of his car went left and right, like it was doing the cucaracha (spelling?).

This brings back a memory of someone, when I was a kid, driving his car and doing the cucaracha with the car. The things that were considered OK in the 70s crack me up. Who would do that now?

I also remember my dad sitting me on his lap in the car when I was little and letting me drive, a la Britney Spears. He did this with my two older sisters and younger brother as well. I think I was the only one who hated it. Too much responsibility on my little shoulders. I had a keen awareness of all I didn't know in terms of controlling this car. My feet weren't on the pedals. Did he know?

I actually didn't have to know anything, because my dad was in control the whole time. I thought I was really driving the car.

Can I extrapolate that to my life? Is there someone smarter than I driving my car? Someone who can see the bigger picture? Can I just let go of the wheel, take my feet off the pedals and trust a greater, wiser presence has got this for me?

Maybe if I pretend it's true eventually I'll believe it.

Maybe it really is true.

This is probably why there are so many churches in town. People need to know they haven't messed up their lives. Someone else is in control - someone loving and good who wants what's best for us.

I never realized how many churches there are in Freehold until I looked for Grace Lutheran Church for a yoga class. I'd heard it was at the church in town and I thought, oh yeah, I know where that is. The church. So, I drove down Main Street and stopped at the church, which was not it. But that was OK because it had to be the next church just up the road. That wasn't it either.

There were churches all over. How many churches do we need? I guess lots of people need church. Or temple. Or mosque. Or yoga. And sometimes yoga is going on in the church, or temple, or mosque, which I guess is a double dose of a helpful thing.

So, the driver in the car doing the icy cucaracha kept looking up at me. I looked at him in his eyes to let him know he could trust me not to make my left until he got his car straightened out.

I also checked the person's face behind me for signs of impending road rage. She couldn't know what I was waiting for. Fortunately, she didn't flip out. She must've figured I was dealing with something she'd have to deal with in the next few seconds, so she waited patiently. Which in New Jersey is nothing short of miraculous.

We're always reminded to be nice to each other because everyone's going through something, but it usually takes a blizzard to really bring home to us that we all face the same obstacles, the same dangerous conditions, sooner or later.

Soon I'll have a break from iced-over parking lots and frosty, wet wind blowing my itchy scarf in my face.

I'll be at the Sivananda ashram in the Bahamas for a mini-retreat.

It takes me forever to plan a vacation. I think about the money. The days off from work. The money. The planning. The freakin money. Will I like it, will I hate it …then I hesitate until the chance passes.

This time I didn't stop myself. I've made all my arrangements and soon, I'm outtie.

Right now it's 73 degrees in Nassau.

My only concern is I won't want to come back.

Keep your toes warm, my sweet, blog-reading chickens.