When inspiration knocks you off your feet, you can choose to anchor that energy and keep it going or let the thought end in the nerve endings of your brain. Newton knows what I'm talking about. His third law states that for every action (force) in nature there is an equal and opposite reaction.
So I stopped.
And let the rush of the cold ocean air envelop me. I've never seen the remnants of drving up close. It's sand-like. I would call it urban sand. The particles not of nature, but of man. This is plastic, rubber, wires, dirt, and steel.
It's a different kind of loud. A loud I never hear because I'm insulated from the outside in my car. Despite the noise, there is a quietness in my limbs. The harsh lights overhead lead the way forward, and I'm thankful for their guidance and dutiful service. I know I have a lifetime of warmth, thousands of drives in a car, being in a rush from pont A to B, so I stopped. I said WAIT. WAIT A MOMENT. I enjoyed the moments of being deliberately cold, to hear the fury of the winds and the 70MPH cars on the other side of the barricade, and to see without the block of a windshield the reflection of the ocean waters, and to look around without the usual blur that driving 70MPH will do. I saw with my own eyes, without the training wheels of the metal and glass surrounding me. I had to see it for myself. I came, I saw, I conquered.