A Better View

Since man first started banging around two rocks, things have been changing; advancing forward, as they should. This is both a blessing and a curse. Or at least, at times, it feels that way.

Not everyone responds and perceives change in the same manner. Change is subjective. Blame it on the Libra in me, but I tend to see both the good and bad with most any change. Driving from Washington D.C. back to the great Northern Lower region of Michigan the other day, I again, was struck with the paradox that is change. 

With the advent of portable technology, came the God-send that is GPS, or some such navigational device. And with it brought the disappearance of the tried-and-true, albeit cumbersome, paper map. When zooming down the expressway alone, the need to consult a paper map is a nightmare, especially at night. However, there is something nostalgic and magical about the unfolding and refolding of a paper map when done by the passenger. The struggle and near impossibility to fold the map back into its original form. The phrases that often accompany the first glance at the map, such as, “I have no idea where we are.” The way in which the eye and mind try rapidly to zero in on the car's location, knowing full well the location is ever changing while the car is moving. The way in which the passenger barks out the next few towns, or the fact that the town one was planning on stopping at has just been passed and is now - long gone.

Visually, the open map provides a snap shot of the country. All of the small towns scattered across this great land are highlighted by size. With a quick glance one knows they are quickly approaching or driving by a town that without this large, floppy piece of paper, the name of which would never be heard or known.

It comes as no surprise to me that I miss these archaic forms of navigation. I like to take my world in on a large scale. I appreciate my smart phone, and all of the instantaneous information it provides. Yet, I feel the world is best taken in when allowed a broad view. Maybe its because when I look too close, I not only feel restricted, but I also have no contrast with which to gauge things. While using my GPS I feel like a rat in a maze. When I use the old, expansive paper map, I feel like a bird flying above. Its true, while flying above its easier to go in the wrong direction. But usually its the wrong turns, and unexpected, unforeseen roads that bring about the most startling and rewarding change. In my attempt to control my life, to never deviate from the marked path, I limit myself and the experiences life has to offer. 

You can be sure the next big road trip I take with my children or friends, I will also be taking along a fresh, paper map. As much as I want a life sans the drama and tragedy, I want one that offers variety, the unexpected and things I’ve never before considered. And that will only happen when I take down the walls of the maze.

Sane