Many times I find myself looking out my window, staring at the traffic flowing by on the interstate that runs past my home. I like the white noise it produces. It has a hypnotic effect on me. Then I begin to wonder about each individual car. Where are they going? Where have they been? Is this their home? Are they having the best day of their life? Maybe they have just won an enormous prize and they're all smiles, jamming to the song playing on the radio. Possibly, they have just been given tragic news about a loved one and they're trying to see to drive through a veil of tears.
Then I wonder if they look up to see my deck. Maybe they are just viewing a blur of scenery, but maybe they are questioning "Who lives there?" Do they make up stories about the person who lives where I do? Do they see a happy family with a dog? Maybe an old man, long retired. Or they might get it right and picture a single girl making her way through the world.
It's funny what our perceptions can do to us. So often, we see the outside world as something apart from us and our lives. But the outside world has lives of its own.