I looked at the gleaming vehicle and said, "It looks great. Thanks."
He held the door open as I slid behind the wheel. Before he closed the door, he smiled and said, "Travel safe."
I considered that and said, "Thank you. I will."
That happened a couple of months ago, but I haven't forgotten his words, "Travel safe." In fact, before I'd gone a block, I jotted them in my notebook, Travel Safe.
I don't know for sure, but at the time I suspected he meant I should pay attention as I drove along the streets of Huntsville, Alabama.
Later I wondered if he meant more than that. He might have been admonishing me to travel safe as the earth rotates 1,040 miles per hour at the equator (slower as you travel north or south away from the equator), and the planet orbits the sun at 67,000 miles per hour, and our solar system orbits within our galaxy at the rate of 420,000 miles per hour, while astronomers speculate the entire galaxy is moving through the universe at the rate of 2,237,000 miles per hour.
The more I've thought about it, the more I've come to believe that he meant all of it. That is, he meant I should travel through my life, as it orbits on its axis, and spins around the sun, and swirls around our galaxy, all the while shooting through the universe at speeds we can only guess at, in a state of full awareness, as I use all the consciousness I can grasp to do it safely.
Yep, that's what I think he meant and that's my admonition to you,