I love to drive. Before the idea of a daily practice of joy even came to me, I drove to design projects in other states or to public speaking gigs halfway across the country. I’ve put 30,000 miles on my car driving cross country twice and to Canada once — and that’s just in the last 16 months. Whenever I can, I drive — often ridiculously long distances, and usually alone.

Driving makes me feel like I have just enough of a “job” to assuage my need to “do". But of course, other than keeping my eyes on the road and getting to my destination, what I really have is a long stretch of open road and open-ended time ahead of me. About halfway from wherever I’ve come from and wherever I’m going, I always feel a moment of absolute elation. Always. There, on the open road, I inevitably reconnect with my joy.