The light changed to yellow and I speed up. I’m in the intersection, halfway, before the light turns to red.
The next light, I’ll make it. I think.
But, this is uncomfortable. I don’t speed up when lights turn yellow. Correction, amber. And with that, the next amber signals me to slow and stop.
I continue on my familiar route, in my usual way, the YA novel I’m reading comes to mind. A book for those in the process of discovery. For those who run the intersections without a thought. Those coming of age are allowed, expected to do this. It is a part of the work.
Sometimes we slip back and test the waters. Wondering. What might we have left behind? Missed? If we had zipped through more of those lights. Who might we have become?
Then again. As I sit a bit longer at each crossing, I find moments. Wait time. And I think, of who I have become because I brake with the amber light.