A Car-Free Lent

Not every year, but in several of the past few years I've given up driving my car for Lent.  As I live 20 miles from the church I serve, it's a challenge to my use of time.  But I've found that the practice has done several things for my spiritual life. 
It's forced me to understand the subtle ways I am isolated by brothers and sisters in car-free life, such as those that are too old or too young to have a license, those who are too poor to own a car, those who have made a brave choice to live car-free, and those who are too disabled to drive. It's amazing to learn how much time it takes to organize one's life around transportation needs.  Our spaces and enterprises are built to favor the car-driving public, and are subtle reminders of the difference in power that makes.
Not driving also emphasizes to me how much we live in an interdependent world.  The illusion of self-sufficiency is just that--and illusion. No person in this society can be truly independent of anyone else.  Our lives are truly connected, whether we can recognize it or not.
Going car-free for a period of time forces me to slow down and notice a whole different world.  I walk more; I have more time to reflect; I can pay attention to a wide variety of people and places that I never notice when I'm driving.
So I'm going to try it again this Lent, beginning on Ash Wednesday, February 18.  We're reading the Psalms as a congregation through Lent, noticing the signposts that they are to God.  Look for signs--all the signs that

God is still working.