Over, or under. Over, and under. Over, and over again.
Watching traffic go by on a February day is one of those things that sounds routine, until I think about it some more. Why am I at this park overlooking this intersection? Oh right, because I wanted to clear my head from some news that had completely upended how I would prioritize my tasks at work next week. Why did I take a walk in February in shorts and a tshirt? Oh right, because of course it’s 77* outside today. Global warming, I sighed. Why wasn’t I busy packing for my train to New Jersey that had been scheduled to leave in an hour? Oh right, the medical treatment I was supposed to get got cancelled. My new insurance had declined the treatment authorization and my doctor’s office now had to fight for approval, again. They were veterans by this point though; they had fought tooth and nail with my last insurance until I got my initial round of treatment approved back in August.
I saw a stream of cars come down the ramp to the right, merging into the once empty roadway that went below me. Some cars had turned onto the ramp from the bridge crossing the street above, but a peculiar few cars had managed to climb the ramp up from the opposite side of the intersection, only to cross the above street and descend back down onto the roadway on this side. Interesting, I thought.
Moments later, a handful of cars appeared from underneath the bridge, choosing to remain on the roadway the entire time from start to finish. “Why only a handful?” I pondered to myself. It seemed there were the same amount of cars that had taken the ramp, complete with stopping at a traffic light at the street intersection, as there had been cars that had taken the much easier path under the intersection.
However, the most peculiar thing about this was that there was a third path – a similar ramp on the left side of the roadway. This ramped seemed to be infrequently used compared to its right hand counterpart, but a single car had managed to climb this ramp off the roadway, stand by its lonesome self at the intersection until the light turned green, and then descend back down to the roadway on the other side many moments after its travel companions had completed that leg of their journeys. And yet, the car drove along towards its destination, ever blissful of this fact.
What if the decisions I make only matter so much? All three of the paths on the roadway started at the same location, only to reconvence after a certain point. It seemed like there were some things in my life that were just meant ot happen, no matter what I did. I could only see the path that I had taken, and the one that I would choose to take in the immediate future, but if I had taken different options along the way I got the feeling that I might have ended up here watching this roadway anyways. A different journey, arriving at the same destination. Us as drivers, blissfully unaware of this fact, except to a lone external omniscient observer. How much can we control of our own destinies, really?
Over, or under. Over, and under. Over, and over again.
Maybe it doesn’t really matter in the end and we should just choose the journey we want to experience.
– Bhavin
momentsof.today 