The Zen of Everythingâ„¢, Day 11: Fame, freeways and the glue that connects them

in hurry What trips you up? Pride? Temper? Fear?

I get shanghai'd by all three, sometimes in combination, but nothing gets me like patience. Because I have so damned little of it.

Today, I almost did a foolish thing, I almost bailed on an opportunity because it wasn't getting me somewhere fast enough. (Well, I also felt like I wasn't being appreciated enough, but like I said, my sins like to gang up on me sometimes.) Miraculously, I stopped myself short of bailing altogether; maybe some of this self-reflection is paying off in self-reflexiveness. I emailed a trusted advisor, and she talked me down.

There was no one to talk me down in the car on the way home from Nerdmasters tonight. We ran late, and in my newly-dual capacity as VP of Membership and President-Elect (yes, we made it official tonight), I'm having to stick around even later. And still miles to go before I sleep, both literally and figuratively.

So of course, of COURSE, the fine city of Santa Monica chooses tonight to shut down an on-ramp. Two, actually; I found that out after going farther out of my way, thinking to save time. And once I got on, I drove like an impatient fool for about 3 freeway miles. Until I noticed the Scarymobile, a.k.a. My Teacher for Tonight, hard on my ass, doing 70.

Am I impatient for things to happen faster, for my vision of myself as the communicatrix, household name, to hurry the hell up, already? Yes. Of course. As much as I'm anxious to get home NOW when it's late and I'm tired. Now, please, if not sooner.

Will it really matter, though? Or is it better to arrive feeling refreshed and content, having enjoyed the ride?

In the case of freeway driving, is it better to arrive, period?

Lesson #10 12: To diminish impatience, expand perspective.

Travel safe this weekend, people, wherever it is you want to get to in a hurry.

xxx c

Image by phil h via Flickr, used under a Creative Commons license.