On Quiet Roads.

In the city, silence is never something that shows up to the party. Highways are busy. Stoplights are backed-up and there is a nightly dose of sirens heard from one's apartment window. The only peace that is displayed is that of a vintage sign that hangs from a trendy door etched with the celebrated phrase, "Let It Be."

And sometimes, there is a need to retreat. Back to the roads first met. The ones that are sweet. The ones that invite one home and ask you to stay a while. The ones that carry the best conversations. The ones that like to tell stories. The ones that if they could open up to you, they would tell you about the first stop sign at which I stalled my Jeep. The path I used to ride my bike to school and the street on which my dad would follow me just to make sure I made it safely. The cul-de-sac that meets the pond that holds the memories of my many imaginary childhood friends, secret dreams and the bench that held me up through years of change. The place that kindled a spark in my soul and became a wildfire of believing in the impossible. The intangible. The unthinkable.

I still go back to these roads.

I go back to be inspired.
I go back to be reminded.
I go back to remember the dreams.

Because the dreams still matter.

And I can't ever let the heart of that girl go.

Those roads help me remember. Those roads teach me to forget. Those roads decorate my mind with years of crazy and calm. And mainly, they sing to me the lyrics of who I am and what will never and should never change.

And so, my dear friends, I encourage you to embrace your roads. The ones that make you come alive. Whatever they might look like; wherever they might be, go give them a visit. They are more kind than you think. Your soul wants it. Your heart needs it.

Let's let today not make sense. And go hit the road.


-S