Cars are sacred places. In these metal bodies of machinery we hurtle along winding roads at God knows what speed trusting that we will reach our destination. And, despite the somewhat transparent windows we feel a sense of privacy. Our cars become extensions of our homes and ourselves. It is our own personal – and mobile – holy ground. We sometimes allow the radio to share in our daily communion with the road.
In our cars we sing, we dance, we cry, we become wholly ourselves. I will be the first to admit that I dance in my car. The steering wheel becomes my drum, the radio my greatest hit. I shamelessly sing along to whatever song comes on, I will play any and every song on my playlist. But I will also cry. It is an odd thing to be vulnerable in a space that operates so commonly in the public sphere. This notion is strange to me because in the car that is when you can be truly alone at times.
So why is it so important to share such personal spaces? I cannot directly tell you. It’s less tangible than a simple explanation.
In Greek mythology the journey was used to signify a greater emotional growth. The same goes for today. Road trips are in a way the physical representation of a greater emotional and interpersonal journey. Yes, the destinations of road trips are often wonderful and fascinating, but the time spent arriving at the place in question is what can be transformative. It is along the way that we find ourselves.
If cars are such personal spaces today then it is fitting that when sharing our personal spaces for long periods of time we find change. You will always remember that one song that came on and perfectly fit the mood. The breathtaking view that made the car stop so that it could be enjoyed. The obstacles that arise on the way become not only tests of patience but also understanding and character. On road trips the many miles needing to be traversed create time for real conversations. The passenger can’t look at their phone the whole time; no one likes an apathetic shotgun rider. Even just sitting quietly, enjoying the other person’s company can have an impact. Or listening to music without talking. If you want to truly get to know someone or build your relationship, take a road trip.
I, for one, am awful with navigation. Much to the dismay of the people I navigate for – or those who navigate for me – I will, more often than not, get us lost. This creates both camaraderie and conflict, but figuring out the way to go together. I do not imagine it easy to manage frustration in these situations, but when the person I’m with does, and we make it work, there is a bond there that is stronger. There has to be something said for experiences like that.
Road trips have brought me and my sister closer together, they have allowed me have deep and personal conversations with friends, resulting in them becoming even closer to me than before.
Whether the passenger is a friend, a partner, a sibling, it may not be the destination that comes to define the trip you take. The journey there may take you through unexpected conversations, amazing duets, and onto closer understandings of one another. The importance of the road trip is not to simply go somewhere, but to be present while getting there.
