Impermanence and the art of driving (like a Masshole)

A few weeks ago I started the process of moving my daughter home from college for the summer. As I left the house for my hour long drive, the cloudless sky was the kind of crystal blue that we only get on a crisp spring or fall morning in New England. As I got onto the Pike, I felt completely at peace. I set the cruise control to something reasonable, turned on my current favorite song and just settled in to enjoy the ride. As I continued into Boston, this feeing of ease continued to deepen. By the time I arrived at Caroline's dorm, I practically floated in grabbed her stuff and then headed back home.

All the lights between Beacon Hill and the Expressway entrance were red, but since each light gave me an opportunity to take a deep breath I was actually thankful for the ability to pause. When I turned onto the Pike, traffic was a little bit heavier than I had hoped but it truly didn't matter,,,,to me. Of course not everyone else was floating along on a little cloud"whistling zippity do dah".

For example, I was following a white car from New York who was, in turn, behind a blue Impala with Mass plates. The guy from NY kept braking erratically and since it was “throwing off my groove”, I moved over to the middle lane figuring I would just let them go on without me. However, for whatever reason the guy from MA slowed down which caused the guy from NY to brake erratically (yet again) and I soon found myself passing both of them on the right. As I did this, I noticed that the lane ahead of them was clear, so I did what any other Masshole would do, I mashed the gas to the floor and tried to pass them both and then "tuck in" to the lane in front of them. Now when I dreamed up this maneuver there was plenty of room, but I made the rookie mistake of turning on my left directional. I say mistake because of course as soon as I did this the guy in the blue Impala did what any other Masshole would do… He mashed the gas to the floor to prevent me from getting ahead of him! Well by this point I had already committed to the lane change and as a result, he had to slam on his breaks when my car shockingly, and unexpectedly, appeared in his lane. “Oops, sorry” I exclaimed and held up my hand in a “my bad” kind of way, as I briefly glanced into my rear view mirror just in time to see him go “maximum-masshole”. This is kind of like when Bruce Banner becomes the Hulk but instead of turning Green and smashing things, you turn red and hitting your steering wheel. The woman with him in the passenger seat (presumably his wife) sat there stiffly with a resigned look that said “here we go again”.

Of course things couldn't simply end there! As soon as my fellow (now raging) Masshole had the chance he tried to pass me on the right but the traffic just wasn't cooperating with him, which pissed him off even more. All the while I'm still floating along on my little cloud (riding two inches off the bumper of the car ahead of me) while simultaneously feeling bad for "somehow" being involved with this drama. Finally about a mile out from 128 he had the chance to pull up next to me on the right. As he passed he gave me the customary “I'm gonna go medieval on you and your entire family" look and of course since I was floating along on my little cloud I just gave him a friendly wave and a big smile like “Hey Bud so happy to see you!”….. Yeah, so he did not like that AT ALL and after a bit more staring on his part I finally flipped him off (while still smiling) just as he slowed down to get onto 128 N. All the while he was losing his shit and his wife was sitting there stiffly.

These types of things happen to me very rarely and usually I feel really agitated afterward but not that day. As I got closer to 495 I realized how remarkable my mood was and I tried to figure how to describe my state of mind so I could remember how to get back to this wonderful place. I knew if I could get back “here” whenever I wanted, I could basically be at peace all the time. Even now I can recall what it felt like but I have a hard time getting back to that same place where I was existing completely in the moment and had not a care in the world about the past or the future. Actually I guess you could say I felt like a kid again.

This feeling lasted for the rest of the day and I went to sleep completely at peace that night.

When I woke up the next morning I felt rested but that feeling of being completely present in the moment had faded a little bit and I found myself starting to stress about the normal everyday life stuff that we all have to deal with. As the day wore on I could feel myself getting pulled further out of center and by the evening I just wanted to be left alone to be able to find my way back to the happy place. I had limited success but it felt forced. I finally turned in for the night and turned my attention towards the feeling of discomfort from not being where I wanted to be. I felt like I had lost a found treasure. I tossed and turned trying to figure out what I was forgetting, what piece was I missing that was preventing me from getting back there (actually "here", now "here", etc).

I woke up the next morning (Monday) and somehow guilted myself out of bed and headed downstairs to my yoga mat. I decided to stretch a bit first and while sitting I realized what a trip the previous 48 hours had been. I went from really high to really low overnight. As I sat I wondered if this was what being bipolar felt like and then of course spent the next few minutes talking myself out of believing that I was becoming bipolar. :-) Eventually I realized that being in the moment is like sitting on at the top of a waterfall and watching the water (thoughts) flow over the edge. If you follow the thoughts (past experiences and expectations), you inevitably get sucked over the edge. This makes for a great mental picture but putting it in to practice is challenging.

Over the next couple of days I started to feel better and by the time I made it to the second class of “The Four Marks of Existence” at the Boundless Way Temple / Worcester Zen Center, I realized the second part of the home work from the first class (which I forgotten about) had to do with impermanence. Upon this realization I smiled deeply and felt warm waves of gratitude as I realized that thanks to the huge mood swing I experienced over the weekend, I had literally “done the homework!” :)

During the open discussion portion of the class I had a chance to share my experience of impermanence. As I spoke, the teachers smiled at me knowingly and validated my experience by adding their thoughts to mine. Using my story as an example, they encouraged us to just notice where we are at any one moment in time because every moment is equally perfect whether you feel high or low. Their advice was to try to avoid clinging to those feelings because they are temporary and by trying to cling to the High feeling, I would only create suffering for myself when the feeling passes, which is of course exactly what happened.

One of my teachers summed this up beautifully when she talked about our understanding of the Mississippi River. We all know there's a river roughly in the middle of the country called the Mississippi but it's channels and banks are constantly changing. This seems like a good metaphor for the state of constant flux that people exist in. For example, here is a person that I refer to as Erik, that has these high level characteristics but who is constantly changing. The same is true for my home, my work, the oil in my car (I need an oil change), the grass in my front yard, the laundry pile, etc.

When I started to think about change this way, I stopped viewing it as a “negative” and purely destructive action, because (as many have said before me) it also involves a new beginning. I realized that in order to grow you (pretty much by definition) have to change or as my Yoga teacher would say “You need to free yourself from old patterns that no longer serve you”. Freeing old patterns can sometimes feel like throwing away an old friend but as with any relationship you have outgrown, this is sometimes necessary.

For me, even thought the ability to embrace change is still a work in progress, I've started reminding myself that “discomfort is a symptom of growth”. At least it is for now, until that changes too.

Namaste!