The Truck
For about eight years, I kept seeing a Coca-Cola truck through my office window. Out there on the highway. Moving. Going somewhere. And I’d notice it and think, that’s cool — I’m where I need to be.
That was enough back then. Watching from the window. Knowing I was in the right building, at the right desk, looking out at the right moment. The sign was out there and I was in here and the distance between us felt normal.
I didn’t question it. I just watched.
Things Started to Shift
Over the past couple of years, something changed. I did a lot of inner work. I started building Chakramation. I started paying attention — real attention — to what my body was telling me in the smallest moments of my day. I started catching the stories my nervous system was writing before they finished. I started choosing differently.
And the truck moved closer.
I started seeing it next to me. On the highway. Not through a window — through my driver’s side window. Different highways. Different parts of the state. Just… there. Right beside me. Going the same direction.
Tonight, I saw it right before I got on the highway to drive to a family dinner I almost didn’t go to.
From the Window to the Road
Here’s what I think that truck has been teaching me for eight years:
When you’re watching your life through a window, the signs stay far away. They’re out there, on a road you’re not on, moving at a speed you’re not matching. And you can still see them. You can still feel the meaning. But there’s glass between you and it.
Granular meditation — the practice of noticing what’s happening inside you in the smallest, most ordinary moments — is what dissolves the glass.
It’s not one big breakthrough. It’s eight years of moments. It’s catching yourself bracing for bad news that isn’t coming. It’s hearing the inner voice that says *no one remembers you* and choosing not to believe it. It’s ordering the right drink, taking a deep breath, and telling yourself your heart is full of what you deserve.
It’s a thousand tiny choices to stop watching your life and start driving in it.
Everything Is Within Reach
Tonight I took my time. I listened to my favorite songs. I jammed out on the drive. I cleared my head and told myself I have the audacity to be myself — to walk into a room full of difficult personalities and not perform, not shrink, not match anyone’s energy but my own.
And the energy was bright.
Everything I used to watch through the window is right beside me now. Not because the world changed. Because I did. Because the work — the real, quiet, unglamorous, granular work of being honest with yourself in the smallest moments — closes the distance between where you are and where your life has been waiting for you.
The signs were never far away. I was.
You are okay. Your body already knows.
