I always seem to ponder deeper thoughts at the same intersection each morning of my daily commute to work. Right about the time I’m stopped at a red light across from the senior center (where occasionally I see my old sorority house mom Pamela venturing in for some activity or another) between a Shell gas station, the local police department, and some sort of antique like shop that’s crammed with old lamps and animal figurines as I take longer sips from my coffee tumbler the thoughts just rumble on. Yesterday, as rain drops pelted my windshield and dark clouds hovered in the sky I peeked out my driver’s side door window. Sometimes I peer into the cars surrounding me, curious about other drivers. Some are scarfing down bowls of cereal, others applying makeup in their flip-down mirrors, some have kids in the car they’re turned around speaking hastily to, others look like what I feel sometimes – not necessarily ready for the day ahead. Not to be a debbie downer, but when I really get to thinking about it, the 9 hours I spend in an office from Monday morning to Friday evening each week, is kind of depressing to think about. I’m aware that working is a necessity to make money to live life (pay rent, purchase groceries etc.) and I’m grateful to be employed in order to so do. But (there’s always a but isn’t there?) to think of the amount of time that goes by sitting at this desk in an office, looking out the window at massive amounts of sunshine that can’t reach my skin just makes me sad. It’s like, sometimes when I look out the window of my car and the view is obstructed? I feel so contained, trapped, limited. Like when the sun is setting but my view is blocked by the metal of the door, or a blind spot. I felt like that yesterday morning in my momentary observation at the traffic light.
What would I rather be doing with my time you might ask? Creating and traveling. Or just inhabiting a monstrous city with an endless amount of space to explore and activities to partake in. The new sights and sounds and feelings that come with it are what usually inspire my desire to create. Whether that be writing or crafting or brainstorming – it all just seems to ooze from my pores the more excited I am about life.
I’ve been attempting to conjure up such emotion or inspiration in my regular day-to-day life in Tallahassee. There are certain things that help, usually when the places or events are immersed in culture. Taking time to stroll through First Friday at my leisure, listening to local bands, browsing people’s vintage treasures, taking a peek at someone’s soul splashed across canvas. Trying little tucked away bakeries, or getting lost in the shelves of a used book store. Traipsing through farmer’s markets, or laying in an open field watching the “super moon” as the night sky illuminates the wide free spaces. Taking walks in the park, or attending little downtown events put on by the library – all of these things seem to help loosen the laces on the constricting location.
Are these universal feelings? Do other people feel trapped in the day to day, constrained by the office? I know I need to work something out, it’s just a matter of figuring out what that might be…