Driving as a spiritual practice
I once gave a talk to a small group of about thirty people. I asked them if they thought that a large proportion of drivers on the road were incompetent or reckless. Most people agreed that there were. I then asked them if they thought of themselves as an incompetent or reckless drivers. None did.
It’s a funny thing everyone in the room considered themselves a better driver than most. How could this state of affairs come to be?
I expect that the term “good driver” means different things to different people. Each driver may have developed special skills. Some are proud of being able to be the fifth car to go over an intersection after the light had changed to red.
There are those multitasking drivers who are putting on makeup, talking on the phone, listening to the radio, and mediating an infantile civil war in the back seat.
Then there are the drivers who have developed superior concentration. They watch the road so assiduously that pedestrians and crosswalks are invisible to them. Others have such religious faith in their safety that they double park in the middle of the road.
Drivers with a more musical proclivity delight in honking their horns. Some have evolved extra sensory perception, and, like whales, communicate with each other by the high-decibel vibrations. One of those drivers just drove by. I am grateful that my living room windows have stopped rattling. Here in Northern California we sometimes mistake this vibratory communication for earthquakes. You see people are different, and what makes a good driver is in the eye of the beholder.
Slow driving should be engaged in with extreme caution. It does tend to aggravate those in a hurry. Now, I’ve been told never criticize the person, only the behavior. Sometimes, being in a hurry can happen even to those who have realized their inner slow person.
But driving gives us a chance to practice politeness, patience, and generosity. We can demonstrate the slow way.
The rear view mirror’s function remains opaque to some. Have you ever been in a parking structure stuck behind driver who finds it necessary to check every filled parking place for signs of movement before ambling to the next one?
I have. And it can test your patience. But we slow types can try to practice patience. I don’t want to get all superior about this because I have failed to be slow on many occasions. Slow is more of a direction than a destination.
I do find that if I let others go before me; if I let pedestrians walk across the crosswalk; if I give my parking space to someone, they appreciate it. I get a nod or a wave, and that makes me feel good. It makes my day much more pleasant.
Far be it from me to tell you what to do, but I just can’t manage to listen to the radio, or talk on the phone, or even think of very much when I am driving. When I drive, I just drive. I should point out I am a man, and can only do one thing at a time. But even if the environment won’t let me drive as slowly as I would like, at least I can practice politeness—some of the time.