Effortless Adaptation – Storied Version

It was a short trip, but not unusual for visiting this Windy City. The last time was a couple of decades ago and lessons learned then had become a sort of muscle memory. Driving in this city is not like driving where I grew up (Twin Cities) and certainly not where I currently live in this rural Iowa town of 5,000. Adjustments were needed if one was to navigate the roads of Chicago. 

The transformation from Rural Zayde to “Chicago Zayde (Yiddish for Grandfather)” occurred before we even made it into the city. A right turn onto a highway required a ‘turbo boost’ to enter traffic or we might still be there, even a week later. Turbo is not something available on my car, but nevertheless, my passengers were suddenly jolted into big-city-awareness.

Even allowing for the I-know-how-to-do-this memory, I also was jolted into an awareness. Hang on for a bumpy ride. 

There are two things that confronted my consciousness this past week. Let’s start with the concept of adaptation. Born of ‘necessity’, a seamless transition from considerate to aggressive driving occurred without much thought. Rationalization said, “Resolve to conquer the roadway or suffer the consequences. Waiting for the opportunity to turn, change lanes, merge, or exit is unexpected and dangerous. Seize the asphalt or die trying.”

And so, I adapted.

An underlying secondary corollary revealed itself as well. The horn. This instrument of mobility originated as a polite method to warn pedestrians and livestock of approaching vehicles. It has since morphed into a hostile voice that screeches, “Get out of my way or you’ll be sorry!”

An original klaxon, the “awooga” of the Model T, has become a high volume multi-toned howl threating a demolition derby should it be ignored. The audible warning does not require personal fault as each unforgivable encroachment is a declaration of war. The intrusion into the path of another vehicle is assumed intentional by default. This ‘violation’ is believed to be a personal affront to the clamoring driver.

Well. There is no reason for the experiences above to be mentioned unless there is something more to the story. Today, we’re going to look at the word, “Microcosm.”

In ruminating about the recent behind-the-wheel experiences, this word became a mantra, of sorts. I kept seeing a small-scale version of life represented by windshield time.

Awooga. The polite and humble noise of caution keeping others safe is rarely used for that purpose today. I wonder when that point of no return happened. When did we decide that my right to move where I want as fast as I want supersedes your right to be healthy and safe? When did we mutate from community caring to ME first and always? Did it happen with hardly noticeable bites, or did we overindulge on self-serving satisfaction? 

This Awooga issue becomes merely a sad question, “That too?” It is a sign of resignation based on the underlying thing-beneath-the-thing: Me before you – at every intersection of life.

This is where I found myself as horns blared around me for the myriad of ‘attacks’ within earshot. I questioned this me-first attitude from the drivers of every Porsche, Maserati, Mercedes, BMW, and Cadillac. I questioned this same mindset from the motorists in every Ford, Chevrolet, Mazda, and Subaru as well. The entitlement of ‘My Road’ wasn’t a question of wealth or status. Everyone participated.

As I watched from behind the windshield in downtown Chicago, I saw images of NASCAR. Goals centered on arriving at some destination as fast as possible. Cars on all sides changed lanes with severe acceleration while their split-second success was decided by the thickness of paint. 

I remember adapting to the driving circus of years gone by and the fun we made of it all. But from this recent ‘turbo-wish’ of an entrance to the highway, I felt a conviction. Somehow, I had slipped effortlessly from a driver sharing the road to an aggressive step-on-it monster of my own making. “I adapted,” and my haunting question began with another important word: Effortlessly. 

I can’t say why I did not embrace the horn-cacophony, but I easily espoused the king-of-the-road adjustment. I wondered, “If, because the circumstance has changed, it’s so easy for me to accept and adjust my driving, what else might I be effortlessly adjusting within daily life?”

• Would I follow the crowd, right or wrong? 
• Might I be susceptible to influences that do not meet minimal standards of integrity just because a friend in my circle preaches something different? 
• Could I, in some situations, rationalize moral decay for personal gain? Or even just to avoid conflict? 
• Am I standing with my core beliefs on a sand dune that collapses with a small tide of challenge? 
• Is it possible that I would reject making room for discussion, consideration, and perhaps even a change of heart because my life is so black and white that I reject any possibility that I could be wrong?
• Or maybe worse, when winds blow in other directions, would moral standards follow the silo of commonality, the religious, or political ‘norm’ that is, for now, culturally mainstream?
• Would weakness allow me to weave back and forth – sometimes committed to one view but effortlessly adapting if the benefits favor me?
• Will I waive my conviction to worldviews to excuse the actions of others?
• When that next difficult-to-enter highway shows up, do I put the pedal to the metal and join the status quo? 
• Is the Chicago driver a microcosm of our life on earth?

The underlying gravity of all these questions also begs for an answer to one more. If these changes happen, will they first be considered, researched, and debated, or will the change be - "Effortless?" 

The answer to that question decides whether anything considered worthwhile and good in life has value because, in this story, ‘Effortless’ will say, “Absolutely not”