The Long Way ‘Round
I got my ticket for the long way ’round
The one with the prettiest of views
It’s got mountains, it’s got rivers
It’s got sights give you shivers
But it sure would be prettier with you
–Song by Anna Kendrick– Cups
Over to my east just off Farm to Market Road 1191, there’s a small tractor going up and down the rows of saplings at the Christmas tree farm. It’s spring and those trees look small and sparse. It will probably be a couple more years before the owner opens up that area to families for a Cut- Your-Own-Tree experience. Just ahead there’s a field of winter wheat, as green as next week’s St. Patrick’s Day shamrocks. Around the next bend, an old rock house stands guard over the chickens in the yard. The gray-tinged hills lend interest to the wide-open scenery. Soon, I’ll slow my already leisurely pace as I bump over a railroad crossing.
I’m taking the long way ‘round from my home in rural central Texas driving towards the Metroplex – the huge metropolitan area that sprawls for miles across North Texas. The Metroplex includes the cities of Dallas and Fort Worth and dozens of suburbs in between and around them. It’s the home of millions of people, including family members who live in various towns scattered here and there. I’m not on a beeline straight towards Interstate 35, the huge artery about 30 miles away that cuts throughout the entire state running North/South, carrying thousands of cars each day. That multi-lane route is hands-down the most efficient way to get from my home to my destination when I get a family SOS or my car is full of small grandchildren that require the swiftest path towards Mommy and Daddy. Today, it’s just me in my little Subaru, and I’m taking the long way ‘round for the first part of my journey. Efficiency is not what’s called for this sunny morning as I head off for a casual family visit. I’ve plotted my course without the need for speed. My arrival time is flexible and so am I. My eyes need to look at green fields instead of cars’ bumpers. My ears need to hear the wail of a train whistle instead of the jarring beat of a nearby radio. My hands need to unclench from the tension of driving in heavy traffic and take a lighter grip on the steering wheel. My soul needs a little R and R—a Rural Recharge.
I pass through several small towns: Meridian with its ornate courthouse that dominates a sparsely inhabited town square; Walnut Springs, where I see neither walnut trees nor a spring. Instead, there’s a small shady park and an old storefront that is now a lively Biker Bar. At Glen Rose, I make a few turns, and pass by some cafés and galleries. I make a mental note to visit next time through. I travel alongside the rocky Paluxy River that runs right through the middle of town and watch some families climbing on huge boulders. A grey-haired man is fishing off the weir, though I doubt he is having much luck in the shallow, rain-starved river. I imagine his goal is similar to mine: Recharge.
Soon enough, too soon, I will have to leave the narrow road behind for a wider thoroughfare. Traffic increases as I near the Metroplex. For the last part of my trip, I’ll join up with the “highway” as my grandson calls the Interstate. It’s the only way to get to the suburbs before dark unless I want to pitch a tent somewhere. I’ll merge into the flow of traffic and my mind and body will switch to high alert, my hands tighten on the wheel as I adjust my speed to match the rush of traffic. I’m glad I still have my “city” driving skills, the legacy of the years I spent commuting. I know the drill: stop and start, inch and surge; merge like a greyhound and not a snail; move into the correct lane way before you think you need to; exit safely and watch out for those cars on the access road that are supposed to yield, but never do. I’m grateful for these well-planned conduits. Superhighways and my own competent driving allow me to stay connected with extended family. I’m just glad I no longer have to navigate daily through the tangles of roads aptly nicknamed The Mixmaster, The High Five, The Corridor (you get the picture.
The long way ‘round is something I do for my body, my emotions—my whole self. It probably wouldn’t qualify as one of those Healthy Habits we read about in magazines and newspapers, but it’s an important way for me to keep my equilibrium in an unbalanced world. For those first few miles (about 40, but who’s counting), I’m connected to the earth in an authentic way. Sure, fields often line the Interstate and there are cattle there too—At least I think those small brown dots that I glimpse out of the corner of my eye as I whiz past at 70 mph are cattle– but on the long way ‘round, I have the luxury of meandering for a while. It’s a healthy way to avoid the Rat Race before I have to scurry around once again. My long way ‘round is not stress-free, of course. That big old F-350 diesel pickup truck behind me rides my bumper for a while before zooming past me in a no-passing zone. I have to be alert for deer and feral hogs in the road, almost as hazardous as three lanes of impatient drivers. On the long way ‘round, I can hear my own thoughts a little clearer, pray out loud, (eyes wide open of course), and feel a healthy Recharge infusing my being.
Health is a part of our lives over which we have limited control. Diseases and accidents impact all of us, and I’m not immune to their effects. I can, however, work to make my body, soul and mind as healthy as possible. Physical, mental and spiritual health intertwine and it’s great when something we do benefits all at the same time. One of those holistic practices for me is to take the Long Way ‘Round when I can. The strains of an old country/pop song begin to echo through my mind as I drive—Heck I might even be able to find a version of it on my satellite radio channel. I’ll be sure to keep the volume turned down so as to not disturb the farmers and the cows.
I got my ticket for the long way ’round
The one with the prettiest of views
It’s got mountains, it’s got rivers
It’s got sights give you shivers
But it sure would be prettier with you
Today’s tile is drawn with colored fine tip markers in a style that resembles the art method Zentangle. There are meandering lines around a heart (that’s me!) that represent the Long Way ‘Round. Cutting diagonally through the center is a wide road that represents a more direct pathway. The tile’s dominant red color symbolizes Health and Energy.
What else do you see in this tile? What could be a Long Way ‘Round moment for you this Lenten season that would lead to a Healthier you- Physically, Mentally, Emotionally, Spiritually?
O God, help us access the resources that we need to be strong and healthy in body, mind and soul. Amen.
The Long Way ‘Round, performed by Anna Kendrick is available for listening on YouTube.
One Comment
Nita Gilger
Due to my being directionally challenged, I almost always take the long way ’round. I call it exploring. I have learned from my years of frequently getting lost to embrace the moment and let the blessings of beauty along the way fill my view and my heart. Peace and thanks for this colorful and meaningful journey.