I’m in a rut.
And that’s probably a good thing. Where would any of us be if we didn’t follow the rut?
There was a time when the rut was extremely important. Back when the pure definition of rut was that deep, sun-baked trenching in the earth made by hundreds of thousands of large, wooden wagon wheels.
Wheels rolling westward. Toward a dream. A fresh start. Opportunity. Adventure. Hope. Those wagon trains followed the obvious road signs. The gouged and twisted ground, etched by those who went before.
It was good to be in the rut. Still is and lucky us. We have our phones to tell us when to turn right or left.
The rut involves more than highways, though. We’re surrounded by daily paths full of road signs.
Calendars. Phone alerts. Alarms. Those little appointment cards. Holidays, birthdays, garbage day, vacation days. Honey-do lists and due dates for bills. Breakfast, lunch and supper. Feed the dog. Let him out. Do it again.
Oh yeah. We’re all in a rut. But there is an itch now and then. To step out of the rut. I’m sure you feel it, too.
I admire my friend Dave. He likes to travel the “blue highways,” something he learned about in the book “Blue Highways … A Journey Into America” by William Least Heat-Moon.
On the old highway maps of America, the main routes were red and the back roads were blue. Dave has learned — many times — that you can get lost on those blue highways.
But then that’s the point. That’s how discovery works. That’s the definition of exploring. And that’s the itch that’s hard … very, very hard ... to scratch. When you’re in a rut.
I’m Lonny Cain … and that’s my Perspective.
