On a recent afternoon, I met a friend downtown for lunch.
I walked out my back door, climbed down two flights of wooden stairs and walked a few hundred feet to a commuter train station. I found myself enjoying a steak and chipotle wrap and some sort of fruit flavored soda in less than an hour.
I’m planning to go on a retreat this spring to a tropical location where I can enjoy workshops and waterfalls, journaling and sunshine.
I figure I can walk a few blocks to catch a bus, transfer to the blue line which takes me right to O’Hare. After one stop In Texas, I will be in Costa Rica. In just in a matter of hours, I’ll be a world away.
I can work the same plan backwards after my trip or see if a buddy will pick me up at the airport. Maybe we can drive to a favorite burger joint on the way home in order to satisfy my expected craving for red meat after living on a healthy, plant-based diet for a week.
It sort of amazes me. I don’t think about it much. I don’t think many other people give the thought much attention either. Between planes, trains and automobiles, we can go almost anywhere.
Some people travel as sport, almost as a type of competition. Proud of airline or hotel points they accumulate, pleased with themselves at finding good fares online or making it to some destination others in their circle have not visited yet, they look at traveling as a way to outdo someone else.
Other people bask in the new normal of working at home, outfitting themselves in the same pair of sweats over consecutive days, not getting near anything that resembles a wheel except, maybe, when picking up their children’s toys.
Traveling for pleasure, holiday visits with family, commuting for work, even running routine errands in a fraction of the time it used to require — most of us have lost touch with how miraculous just getting to a destination is.
Yes, it’s great to be in nature; to give yourself a reprieve from schedules and walk barefoot in the grass, to smell the earth and listen for life happening around you. The sounds of birds or the unexpected observation of a brown squirrel scurrying up a tree can act as a little wake-up call to appreciate things often overlooked.
But, planes, trains and automobiles — these inventions capture our imaginations. They serve a practical purpose but, more importantly, they remind us that so much is possible.
In the 70’s, GPS (Global Positioning System) came on the scene. Now, there are multiple applications for smart phones that, not only provide navigation instructions, provide up to the minute reports on traffic patterns.
Many people watch movies on their phones or open restaurant menus by scanning bar codes. People can track expected packages themselves and order groceries for delivery without having to talk to anyone.
But, all these advances in software technology don’t give me the same sense of the miraculous as the invention of new methods of transportation.
I look forward to advances in powering vehicles from renewable energy, but I guess I’m in love with the stories of great leaps of conception, what the Wright Brothers did for aeronautics, how British inventor Richard Trevithick pioneered train travel.
Recently, Congress passed a major infrastructure bill. Many thought it was miraculous because we’ve become accustomed to Congress not getting anything done.
But, it was miraculous to me in another way.
The goals of this bill and even the kind of investment required seemed to be one of the few things otherwise polarized factions could agree on.
I thought about how inspiring invention is, in general, but bridges and roads, like the great American experiment in democracy, need to be maintained, updated, enhanced — never taken for granted.
As pilot or passenger, planes, trains and automobiles facilitate a direct experience of movement, often accompanied by a rush of freedom.
Getting from here to there is no small thing.
