I’ve been thinking about this question this week: How is a windshield a metaphor for life? Or, maybe more specifically: What’s my outer windshield like vs my inner windshield?
I’m still trying to work this one out, so bear with me here…
Outer windshield: How things look from an outside perspective. Life from the outside in.
Inner windshield: How things actually look from my perspective-at-the-speed-of-life. Life from the inside out.
Things in my life could look all clean and clear from the outside, and I might be able to keep my eyes on the proverbial road for most of my day, but when I shift directions and head right into the sunshine? When the reality of my inner windshield is fully illuminated for the foggy schmeary mess that it is, and there is zero percent of escaping the reality that I need a good cleaning, and also realizing that my past strategies for clearing the fog really didn’t actually work because they just pushed the mess around?
Might be time to tend to that inner windshield.
And also my actual windshield. Seriously. That thing’s a mess.
(Inspired by a weekend car ride with friends and also by being a passenger in my own car this morning when Mike drove me to school and I saw my dirty streaky windshield for what it truly was when we turned up the hill into the sun. Surprise!)