As many suburban women do, I spend a lot of time in my car, running errands and dropping kids off and picking them up. That could become a lot of dead time with no net reward. But I’ve got some strategies that really make it time you can use.
First of all, if the kids are in the car, I use the time to talk to them. I ask them about school, friends, new musical groups, movies, books, you name it. They can’t just walk away or mumble, they’re trapped for the space of the ride, and are usually more than willing to share their thoughts. We have some great exchanges this way. Once the conversation is exhausted, I listen to their music. Sometimes it’s tough, but most times I learn something and even begin to sing along. It builds bridges between me and my teen-agers and keeps me tuned in to popular culture.
If I’m alone in the car, I enjoy that time. On a mundane level, I will turn on all-news radio and get the top headlines of the day. It keeps me informed and feeds me story ideas for the writing and editing work that I do. If I’m full-up on news, I turn on the oldies radio station and sing along, revving my mood with the beat of the ’60s. Or I turn on the classical music station and stay tuned if there’s a favorite symphony or piano concerto.
But the best time for me in the car is spent in prayer and meditation. The car is a perfect vehicle for this, especially my minivan, with its panoramic windows where I can see the sky, the trees, the lovely lakes and winding hills of the town I live in. I am truly at one with nature and with my spiritual self. I have conversations with God, with Jesus and often with Mary, and then I say Hail Marys and Our Fathers for a host of people and painful situations close to home and around the world. Last week, I prayed for my family, for several friends going through cancer treatment or other major illness, and for the poor people of Armenia, whose Prime Minister and several other elected officials were gunned down last week by terrorists. The Armenians have suffered for most of this century — through World War I, through the brutality of the Turks in its aftermath, through Soviet oppression, through earthquakes. And now, as they reach for freedom, there was one more setback. I know I am only one voice, but even one voice raised in prayer can help.
This is not an unselfish deed. The mere act of praying brings me peace and a sense of grace. I can actually feel my spirits lift. One morning, in the midst of such prayer, I caught a blur of graceful movement spiraling upward out of the corner of my eye. I glanced over and saw a majestic gray heron lifting off the lake, through the mist, soaring toward the sun. I caught my breath at the sight, at the beauty of it and the wonder. I hadn’t realized there were such birds practically in my back yard. In all the years I had lived in my town, I had never seen the creature, and haven’t seen it since, more than a year later, even though I drive past that lake on more mornings than I can count. It was a glimpse of nature’s splendor that I was privileged to witness.
We live in an increasingly hectic world with so little time to reflect. But car time can be your time, just as it has become mine.
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