The Ones Behind You

I’m learning that when you turn left on certain roads in my town, you’ll stay there forever as you wait to turn. But cars turning right–those who would by now have been on their merry way–must patiently wait behind you. Unless you leave some kind room for them.

If I scoot my car a bit to the left, all the cars turning right have space to travel smoothly.

I think about the space I take up. I think about who sits behind me needing their own space. I think about making room for others to travel on their journey. The metaphor sinks deep. I’m not everything. You’re here, too. You have things to say, places to go, roads to travel.

In my life as a writer, I think about helping make room for other voices behind me. Younger ones. Diverse ones.

In teaching, in parenting, in just plain old living: I start thinking about who comes behind me. I think about living in a kind, gracious, spacious kind of way to let others through.

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