I’ve come to believe in a sort of magic that exists in the confines of a car on a road trip.

It’s in the rumble and silence, the rain on the windshield and smears and smudge of the windows. The undefinable smell of aging plastic, the candy bar wrapper in the footwell, dirt from your last vacation, and papers in the glovebox.

I think that we forget the origin of “magic” in the cultural sense. Humans used “magic” to explain everything from lightning and earthquakes to the confused amnesia of walking through a doorway. Magic existed in the cooking hearth and in the blending of metals – anything we couldn’t quite grasp or define. And I think it still exists more than we think it does.

When did you last feel Deja Vu? You’ve probably had a moment where you thought to yourself, “I think I had a dream about this exact scene last week.” I hope you’ve had the opportunity to sit on a couch in your living room with the lights off while rain and thunder assaulted the windows. It’s a peace rivaled by only a few other experiences.

A long drive, in my humble opinion, can have the same effect. It’s very easy (and I mean that) to become overwhelmed or frustrated with a long day of driving ahead of you. But, if you work hard, it can turn into a meditative space. When your map route tells you there’s 345 miles of straight highway before the next turn, you can be confident that even if your mind wanders, you won’t get lost. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t advocate for zoning out or sleeping at the wheel. But with a little effort, you can detach a part of your mind’s workspace to quietly mull over things or run imagined scenarios. And the open road is one of very few places where we can do that anymore.

I mean, seriously – when was the last time you had more than an hour to yourself. Truly to yourself, not scrolling on your phone, not watching TV, preparing a meal, or waiting for an appointment. When you embark on a long drive, you’re removing nearly all options of distraction. Sure, you can listen to music or a podcast, call a friend, or put on an audiobook. But the magic kicks in when it’s quiet. I used to always listen to music when I took trips, but recently I’ve been enjoying the quiet for a while before putting on something to keep my mind busy.

Maybe none of this is news. Maybe everyone is aware of the magic. But if I can push you a little to try and hear it, I think my silly little thoughts are worth it.

Go for a drive (if you can). Listen closely to what the road tells you.