The past, the future, majesty, love—
if they are vacant of you,
you are vacant of them.

I’m heading out… the road beckons. And I abide. It’s a magical place–one of immediate consequence, one where you are you in your most potent form.

And she is a me I adore. A fact that can bring me to tears and has, followed by a giggle of my own ridiculousness. I know. It can sound hackneyed if outside of this state. Like a love song to someone who does not know love. But…

A solivagant, I partake in the consumption of wonder in many wild forms within an epic journey long-planned. But it’s also a surrender–a readinesss of the unknown and the myriad possibilities it brings. In honor of this place, my annual tribute to the open road… my most favorite place.

A repost of my Ode to the Road..

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Though I generally resent most advertisements as trite emotional manipulation, I really love this Volvo ad.  But I credit Walt Whitman’s Song of the Open Road more than Volvo… and Josh Brolin’s voice as narrator. It captures the magic of being on the road, a beloved past time of mine. Further, to follow and in honor of the summer travel season, my favorite parts to Whitman’s poem.

Song of the Open Road (Whitman, “my other favorite W.W.”)

1
Afoot and light-hearted I take to the open road,
Healthy, free, the world before me,
The long brown path before me leading wherever I choose.

Henceforth I ask not good-fortune, I myself am good-fortune,
Henceforth I whimper no more, postpone no more, need nothing,
Done with indoor complaints, libraries, querulous criticisms,
Strong and content I travel the open road.

The earth, that is sufficient,
I do not want the constellations any nearer,
I know they are very well where they are,
I know they suffice for those who belong to them.

(Still here I carry my old delicious burdens,
I carry them, men and women, I carry them with me wherever I go,
I swear it is impossible for me to get rid of them,
I am fill’d with them, and I will fill them in return.)

4
The earth expanding right hand and left hand,
The picture alive, every part in its best light,
The music falling in where it is wanted, and stopping where it is not wanted,
The cheerful voice of the public road, the gay fresh sentiment of the road.

O highway I travel, do you say to me Do not leave me?
Do you say Venture not—if you leave me you are lost?
Do you say I am already prepared, I am well-beaten and undenied, adhere to me?

O public road, I say back I am not afraid to leave you, yet I love you,
You express me better than I can express myself,
You shall be more to me than my poem.

I think heroic deeds were all conceiv’d in the open air, and all free poems also,
I think I could stop here myself and do miracles,
I think whatever I shall meet on the road I shall like, and whoever beholds me shall like me,
I think whoever I see must be happy.

5
From this hour I ordain myself loos’d of limits and imaginary lines,
Going where I list, my own master total and absolute,
Listening to others, considering well what they say,
Pausing, searching, receiving, contemplating,
Gently,but with undeniable will, divesting myself of the holds that would hold me.
I inhale great draughts of space,
The east and the west are mine, and the north and the south are mine.

I am larger, better than I thought,
I did not know I held so much goodness.

All seems beautiful to me,
I can repeat over to men and women You have done such good to me I would do the same to you,
I will recruit for myself and you as I go,
I will scatter myself among men and women as I go,
I will toss a new gladness and roughness among them,
Whoever denies me it shall not trouble me,
Whoever accepts me he or she shall be blessed and shall bless me.