By Cassandra Tyndall
Many moons ago, I took an interstate drive to a city I hadn’t been to before. I drove from Sydney for my first visit to Melbourne, about 900 kilometers or 550-mile trip. This was before social media and smart phones, so it was a bit of an adventure especially during bushfire season.
I drove along what felt like an endless straight road. I stopped on the way as little places piqued my interest or my stomach told me it was time to eat. My time in Melbourne was lovely, but it was the drive I remember most.
Several months later, I visited Melbourne again. That time, I opted to fly. In the space of under two hours, I walked through one tunnel in an airport and exited another tunnel in a different airport. It felt so immediate. And clinical. There were no stories to tell to the person who was waiting for me on the other side.
This week, you too might be rushed to a destination or some kind of end point. If you can, take the longer route. Be open to creating the adventures, the stories and the memories if you just took a little more time to stop and wonder.
