Somewhere Else

On Traffic Jams, Sailboats, and the Belief That Peace is Somewhere Else

I’ve been in traffic jams every day. Let me be more specific. I’ve been in traffic jams every time I get on any interstate highway in or around Indianapolis—multiple times a day.

And internally, it wrecks me.

But there’s something worse. When two lanes of traffic are instructed to merge into one, and other cars fly by, skipping everyone who has already merged, only to cut into the line at the last second.

I only experience hatred during those moments. And I mumble under my breath.

For a moment, I quit thinking about Indy, construction, and terrible drivers. My mind went back to 2023–24, when I drove the two-lane roads of southwest Indiana every day.

Ah yes.

Life was easier then. Hardly any construction. No traffic jams. Drivers were even nicer.

But then I remembered following horse-drawn carriages for miles. That last line was not a joke.

Or following slow-moving semis for 38 winding miles with nowhere to pass. Thinking about it makes my heart palpitate.

Get out of the way!

There’s a character in my novel What Can’t Be Hidden who regularly stares at a painting. It’s a painting of an old man sitting in a rowboat next to a child. Their boat is docked, and the sail is down. But my protagonist always studies the distance. He sees other sailboats on the horizon, seemingly headed somewhere else. He imagines himself on one of those boats, leaving his present life behind and finding peace somewhere else.

But the more he stares at the painting, the more he notices something on the old man’s face as he looks at the child beside him. Even though the sail is down and the boat isn’t going anywhere, the old man’s face exudes peace and contentment.

My protagonist has a realization.

Peace isn’t found by leaving and going somewhere else to find it.

Peace begins within you, no matter where you are.

I’ve thought about that scene often over the years.

As I’ve been preparing the 5-Year Anniversary Edition of What Can’t Be Hidden for release this September, I’ve found myself revisiting these scenes again. What I’ve realized is that my character’s struggle wasn’t really about leaving. It was about believing that peace existed somewhere else.

But peace has a way of eluding us when we treat it like a destination.

Maybe that’s why this scene continues to resonate with me all these years later. The old man in the painting isn’t at peace because he found a better place to be. He’s at peace because he finally learned how to be where he already was.

And that’s a lesson I really needed today.

Question

Where am I waiting for a different set of circumstances before allowing myself to be at peace?

Peace,

Brandon

What Can’t Be Hidden
5-Year Anniversary Edition
September 8, 2026

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