reflections on traffic

where oh where does everyone south of here go when the weekends roll around? it seems that if, with all of the traffic that heads north on friday and south on sunday that when you went to new york city or north new jersey that the streets would be deserted, times square devoid of people, ring on a doorbell and there is no car in the drive and the lights are out and maybe even the cat has taken off for the weekend driving, you become easily acquainted with traffic and the awe and the headaches that it can cause but for the idea that a higher spiritual calling is coming your way if you can approach it with a buddhist, monk-like way. its zen on four wheels (or in my case, eight wheels...) traffic, i read once in an article interviewing a traffic control 'expert,' for the california freeway system, traffic is an organic living thing, if such a metaphor can and well, easily be made for the unfeeling all patient beasts that we ride around in... traffic is a living and organic thing that moves like a snake. one section may well move and slowly, the tail will be brought up to the midsection and slow, then like a coiled muscles, the head will stretch and move, dragging along with it, the middle and tail again. its deciding where to speed up and where to slowly let everyone drop the gas pedal and three seconds later, the brakes as it slows and sppeds and slows and speeds and then slows again. repetitive. i've found a real meditative quality in the action. let the sighs come from the passengers mouths in back of you and enter a zone of white peaceful softness that tells you, like so much in life, take it easy, one inch at a time, or should i say, one mile marker at a time.