Get Out of the Fast Lane

I’m fixing to get myself out of the fast lane.

I became aware this was a necessary adjustment to my life when everyone on the highway of life began to pass me by on a regular basis.

It’s a mighty traumatic experience when that happens—when you have to move aside and let younger folks, who supposedly have more important destinations and who can navigate the roads of life with more accuracy, take the lead from you.

They seem to zoom right by me these days, changing lanes and making sudden turns that I would need time to consider before attempting.

I suppose another reason they keep leaving me in their dust is that they’re driving powerful new automobiles with satellite navigation systems to tell them how to get where they’re going while I rely on my memory and a 15-year old set of wheels.

Comparing my memory to a satellite navigation system is like putting a pair of bifocals up against the Hubble Space Telescope.

They drive fast not only because they have better reactions, but also because they know exactly where they are going. Sometimes I can’t remember where I’m going and have to pull into a rest stop of life and try to remember where I came from and where it is I’m going, but since it still usually comes to me, I resolved to move over into the middle lane of life because I felt like I could still survive there.

There weren’t any of those young whippersnappers in the middle lane, but guess what? There were a lot of folks who couldn’t stay in the fast lane but who could still run circles around me.

Reluctantly, I eased over into the far right lane of life, the slow one, the one where you didn’t have to change lanes in the blink of an eye. or make life determining decisions in a split second.

I’m cruising down the road of life now, staying in the far right lane, traveling at a safe speed and making rational decisions.

But I ain’t fixin’ to get off the road yet.