Throwback Jams

I am the traffic cop.

i stand in the middle of life's traffic and direct people where to go, and help them along. i am more concerned about their well-being than my safety.

compliments come in fleeting moments. "how brave you are." "i wish i was that strong." but with the next breath, they are back into the traffic.

so i decided i wanted to hitch a ride. i was tired of being stagnant in the middle of the intersection, and wanted to get out and GO somewhere. luckily, there are people that oblige.

so we took off at the speed of life. i was initially blown away at how effortless it is to live this kind of life. how easy it is to meet new people and share experiences. but then i realized that this was not what i thought it was. instead of being a willing passenger, i became an uncomfortable prisoner trapped in the trunk.

every now and then i say something positive about it. "at least i'm laying down." "i don't have anyone else to worry about." but those are easily outweighed by the darkness...the loneliness...and the insomnia.

one day this car will run out of gas, and the driver will let me out of the trunk and say to me, "look. look at where i have taken you." and i will see the place that i have been telling people all my life to avoid. the place where people are broken into other people, dependent on identities that are provided from people who don't have one themselves. more than likely, it will be a desert. except, instead of grains of sand, there will be millions of lost people that will still say "this is the life."

no doubt, i will find someone that is on their way out, saying, "i need to get out of this place." and i will know exactly where to go. and instead of being cargo in the trunk, i will be a passenger. i will get to see the sights. see the things that i had done to get to where i was, and see how long of a drive it really is.

as we return to the city, the comfort i always had will be looked upon differently. i will pass another traffic cop that has a wanting look on his face: a face of jealousy. i think to stop and give a warning, but realize that it is a trip he must take.

as i settle into my new life, i realize that it is not the cop that keeps the traffic sane...it is the traffic that keeps the cop sane. the need for guidance is one everyone has, but those who give it are in need of a different experience entirely.

despite being road weary, i am glad to have taken that trip.

and at least now i can say:

i am no longer a traffic cop.