Do you remember when you learned how to drive?
I was raised working on a farm, and driving wasn't exactly a luxury there. Kids were practically being taught in diapers in some cases. For me, it wasn't until I was twelve.
I've got countless stories of my own from those days, but one memory that still makes me laugh happened years later.
I'd just picked up my son from daycare, and it wasn't unusual for him to sit on my lap and help steer us home.
It's how I was taught.
Well, one day my wife at the time came up to me looking absolutely horrified.
Apparently, another parent had caught me red-handed. Did I really let our son sit on my lap and drive?
From the sound of it, I should have been locked up!
I thought she was joking with that look of disgust, so naturally I played along.
I told her next time he'd probably be ready to do it on his own.
That went over about as well as you might imagine.
But how does one person's perspective of an action create so much chaos?
That's dangerous!
I heard that one countless times.
And come to think of it, danger is something every one of us has to learn to navigate. Some lessons arrive through instruction. Others arrive through experience. And sometimes we don't even recognize the danger until somebody else points at it.
Which brings me to something I've been carrying around for a while now.
We must learn how to do dangerous things safely.
That transition from crawling to walking was a real challenge, huh?
Those cushy diapers were a true blessing. Much safer for our sensitive little tail ends when gravity decided to introduce itself.
Hmmm. Come to think of it, to this day, where I sit in a room is often dictated by who has the best chair. And LOL, I know I'm the only one!
I should do me though, right?
My level of appropriate cushioning apparently feels perfectly aligned with my own perception of risk. Much like having my son on my lap, learning the earliest stages of how to drive.
But think about it. Learning to crawl was one of our first adventures. Then came walking, maybe roller skates, skateboards, scooters, or even one of those futuristic hoverboards that seem determined to introduce our tail ends to the pavement all over again.
Each one came with a whole new set of training sessions. New balance. New confidence. New opportunities to discover what happens when we conduct ourselves in unsafe manners.
And somewhere between the diaper and the driver's seat, we started deciding for ourselves which risks felt perfectly reasonable.
Even when someone else was absolutely horrified by them.
That was one heck of a reaction, huh? One parent frightened, the other not so much.
Did this person have a bad experience with something similar? Or possibly no experience at all?
Have you asked me yet, or even wondered, where the heck is he going with this now?
What did she say, right?
Does it matter?
She said nothing, actually. It's more about what she felt, and what had enough influence over her to produce that reaction.
The cops didn't come knocking at my door. Our paths never crossed again. And to this day, I'd imagine we both feel we did the right thing.
My point is harmless enough, yet can you see how something like this, at the highest political level, could become the beginning of the next world war? Or a series of court battles with no end in sight at mine?
How many rabbit holes can we go down now?
Okay. All of them!
Have you ever heard the expression that you could throw a rock in just about any direction, and wherever it landed would be a good place to start?
Well, let's start with what she said, huh?
No, not her!
I'm talking about that time I found myself wondering why my team couldn't work extra hours without proper authorization.
I was brand new to working on the Space Shuttle program and about to be introduced to a culture where human factors played a significant role.
Apparently, the monitoring of work hours had been around for years, but it was a first for me.
As the story was told to me, an individual had been driving home after a series of long shifts. Somewhere along the way, fatigue apparently got the better of them. Their car ended up in the path of a train, and a collision followed.
Think about that for a moment.
A person finishes working, gets into their car, and heads home. Something most of us have done countless times without giving it a second thought.
Yet the effects of the workday don't necessarily end when we clock out.
One of the things I began learning was that incidents and near misses could lead to a review by a panel, not simply to assign blame, but to understand what happened and look for ways to prevent it from happening again.
That was a different way of looking at things.
And I was only beginning to understand why.
Do they care about me?
That was just one of my first questions.
After a series of experiences, traveling to different places and having opportunities to support the processing of the Space Shuttle, I couldn't help but reflect on some of my past employers.
And I'm pretty sure they didn't!
I'll admit, money helps. But so does good leadership.
I remember asking one of my managers one day why they did so much for us.
For example, they'd send runners to get whatever support items we needed. And a runner could be anyone in the know, including those wearing suits!
It wasn't just someone pointing across the room and saying, "I see a ladder over there."
Oh no.
It was someone swinging their tie over their shoulder, or putting their hair up in Olympic timing, then setting up that ladder and holding it steady for you.
Why?
Well, that's what was needed.
And the answer was something I've carried with me ever since.
We all do critical stuff here, and we offer 360-degree support so each person can focus on their direct task at that moment.
As you may have noticed, everything is truly temporary. And while this type of existence felt like something that should always be possible, it wasn't.
In fact, I'm writing for us now, thanks to that temporary label we seem to put on everything.
Wait. Did he say thanks?
How could I not?
Yes, this was well over fifteen years ago, yet to this day I'm so thankful for that training.
Was it fun working for others after the Space Shuttle program ended? Was it any better once the Space Center picked back up again?
Nope!
But what did happen was that I began experiencing so much of what we refer to as corporate America, something others had apparently been tolerating for much longer.
Some came from law enforcement, others from the auto industry, and no matter where they came from, most seemed to find comfort in what I thought was a rather hostile environment.
What felt hostile to me was practically a security blanket to them!
I'd heard plenty of colorful names for employers over the years. And for whatever reason, the names we called aircraft carriers never bothered me quite as much as hearing “Slave X” and “Kennedy Slave Center” jokingly tossed around on a regular basis, even if it were me saying them too.
During the Shuttle era, human factors and the emphasis on safety meant that one person performing a critical task could have five others supporting them.
Then BOOM!
It felt like we went from five people supporting one job to one person trying to do five jobs.
And my next question became:
Do they not trust me?
But that voice I'm learning to hear had another question waiting.
Would I trust me either, if I treated me like that?
I began throwing rocks.
Everywhere!
How could everything I loved be turning into tests?
All my relationships were hurting from all these rocks, and wouldn't you know it, there seemed to be an endless supply of them.
LOL. Temporary my ass, huh?
By this point, I'd read zillions of spiritual books, and somehow, everything I'd absorbed from them began downloading at once.
Now those rocks were becoming exactly what it took to see through the cracks they'd created.
How?
Did she say something I missed?
Nope. More like I remembered.
What? Remembered?
Hmmm.
All I could remember was the discomfort, like wearing a pair of shoes that were just a little too tight. Except I'd apparently been wearing them for years.
Then, in good fashion, I discovered rocks in mine.
And finally, they were removed.
I must have slept for weeks, maybe months. At first, missing those old shoes. Then wondering whether I could have just removed the rocks.
Except those rocks were apparently laced right into the soles!
I used to run so fast in those shoes, though.
Said one voice.
Only one voice now?
Hmmm. That's odd.
But welcome.
Hmmm.
Just like these new shoes.
How many shoes have you worn? How many more will you wear?
And how many had rocks laced right into their soles before you finally took them off?
Have you ever stopped to ask why you were wearing them in the first place?
We're not here to suffer!
So, by all means, find that comfy chair. Find those rockless shoes. And don't be afraid to throw a few rocks now and then, either.
Although I've noticed that throwing rocks has a funny way of putting a few right back into your own shoes at the same time.
So let's figure out what's really going on here.
Of all the teachings I've encountered, none of them have said, “Yes, just sit there and suffer. You deserve this!”
Although I've been told there's apparently a whole science now devoted to premature rock-lacing techniques.
Imagine that!
I've also been told that suffering itself can become a tool for removing those rocks.
Hmmm.
One approach seems to keep adding rocks. The other might help us discover why we're carrying them.
Which tool sounds good to you?
Hmmm. Keep reading, if so.
Oh, you're here after all!
Good. Me too.
Where are we, though?
Here.
That's all you really need to know. Although from here on out, you might find yourself wondering, Where could my crow be now?
Don't worry. It's close.
And from everything I've read, listened to, experienced, or simply felt, it all seems to lead me to this very feeling.
The tight, rock-filled shoes. The comfy chair that eventually fell out from under me. And that feather cushion that somehow turned my initial suffering into something resembling pure grace.
As I settle into the comfort of this cushion, I'd love to share how I've come to see this as possible.
It's beyond words.
Or at least it was until just now.
Because only a moment ago, we were sitting in a seat of training.
And now?
A seat of remembrance.
Remembering how my reactions create opportunities, and how those opportunities depend, in part, on my ability to peacefully coexist.
What? Coexist?
Yes!
As best you can.
Here's a glimpse into what can turn that easily spoken request into a way of life.
One of my favorite little bites of lyrics says, “Drilling for fear makes the job simple.”
Fear certainly seems to be one of our most powerful influences. And understandably so. We each have our own fears to recognize and address.
Can't think of any?
Don't worry. A trigger is probably only a few Knows away.
For each of us, that much seems pretty reliable.
So what's our number-one driving fear?
Death comes to my mind.
Yet death became a certainty the moment I took birth.
Notice how I said took birth?
Yup. According to a very special self-awareness tool I found, I actually created my own contract for why I'm here at all.
Possibly, that is.
Of course, other information may come to me. But after everything I've witnessed, the following idea isn't just fun. It makes the whole experience feel like an endless loop of fun.
Buckled up, but fun!
Where is that crow?
Well, this idea came to me through a Buddhist concept involving reincarnation.
Hmmmm.
Yup, I said the R word!
And it doesn't rhyme, yet somehow it elicits remembrance.
The whole idea of an incarnation, right?
It's this Now.
Now, go look in a mirror.
Yes, that reflection is you, Now.
Then look at a baby picture.
A different Now. Same incarnation.
Get it?
And once you took this incarnation, imagine a crow beginning yet another journey around an enormous mountain, miles long, miles wide, and miles high.
In its beak is a silk scarf, which it gently brushes against the mountain as it passes.
Just the tiniest bit of rock wears away.
Then the crow disappears for another hundred years before returning to brush the mountain again.
And again.
And again.
As the story goes, the time it would take that silk scarf to wear the entire mountain away gives us a glimpse of the extraordinary timescale associated with the journey toward enlightenment.
Now imagine how many incarnations might come and go along the way.
And here we are, worrying about the rocks in our shoes!
Incarnation is probably my favorite word.
Everything I'll ever know seems to fit somewhere inside it.
So let's have a little fun with this one!
And remember, the Buckle Up part means we must approach all of this with coexistence in mind, using what I like to call Now Perspective Filtered, or simply NPF.
There are many ways to align with this idea.
While astrology happens to satisfy some of my mind's demands, it's actually a fairly new tool for me. What it really did was help me make sense of something my gut had apparently been doing for me all along.
It gave me a language to label my own gut's ness!
And there are so many other effective tools out there.
Trust your gut to find yours.
If it feels good, maybe that's the one.
Hmmm.
Bank robbery probably shouldn't feel good, though.