The View

Some days the road forces you to slow down…

And this time, it gave me something back.

I got to watch the sunset from Sandia Crest.

Sat under the stars.

Looked down at the city instead of flying past it.

Now every time I run through here,

I won’t just pass Albuquerque—

I’ll remember what it felt like to actually be here.

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VIEW

Seven years on this road. 2,500 days of pavement.

And I realized—I hadn’t really seen the mountains once.

I’ve passed through Albuquerque a thousand times.

In the beginning, I was wide-eyed.

Lately?

It’s been a gray ribbon.

White-line fever.

Mile markers. Fuel stops. Hum of the tires.

Somewhere along the way,

I stopped designing the miles

and started letting them pass me by.

Then the rig went down.

Air brakes locked.

Everything stopped.

And for the first time in a long time—

I looked out the window.

It hit me…

I’ve been driving for seven years,

but the last few?

Autopilot.

Locked into the clock.

Moving freight…

but not experiencing the trip.

Speed is the enemy of sight.

You can cover a lot of ground…

and miss your whole life.

We chase the hustle like it’s the goal,

but if you’re moving too fast to see where you are,

you’re just a passenger in your own cab.

Sometimes it takes a breakdown

to wake you up.

Awareness.

The road is still there.

Don’t let the miles drive you.

Be the Architect of your own ride.