My parallel life: my ego is selfless

So what am I saying?  I'm having an outer body experience as I sit through traffic. Trying to focus on items on my agenda, prepping for the day ahead of me.
Buses to the right and taxis to the left, I am not moving. I am frozen by the rut.
And suddenly, I am me, in Chicago, crisp morning air, walking in a dense suburb, town houses packed up against eachother.

And my vision of me is clear and I feel like latching on to the comfort it brings. Almost like a chilhood memory, the smell of my grandmother and the softness of her barthrobe.


My mind is open, I feel alive.

In this moment, I am walking side by side with a person who knows me, who is me, but in this foreign place. She is not stressed, not rushed. She pauses and contemplates.

Where is she going?
She has three children, maybe even a fourth on the way. She is poor but does not know it.
She is full of love and nothing more matters.

She is healthy and has time to make her own bread. She sips her tea. She loves to braid her daughters hair and sing lullabies (Even if her voice is utterly horrible).

I am this woman, in my parallel life. The life I lead in secret, in my jam packed head, with bills and meetings and shopping list everywhere. (I lack passion and philosophies).