Life in the Slow Lane
Viewing traffic delays as opportunities to practice loving-kindness will lower your blood pressure—and drive you sane. B Y K AT E B R A E S T R U P
I
n car commercials we are gliding, almost flying down empty roads, past landscapes of hypnotic beauty. But in reality, the average American will spend about 40 hours a year stuck in traffic. We’re schlepping to and from school, work and the store, a Frappuccino in the cupholder and our devices beeping and squawking at us. I spend a lot of time behind the wheel, annoyed. Take that school bus, for example—the one inevitably in front of me when I’m running late, that big, saffron yellow, do-notpass vehicle that belches diesel fumes and stops every 50 feet to collect one or two children from their driveways. When I was a kid,
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I had to walk a quarter-mile to the bus stop, where all the children in our neighborhood were expected to wait, so it only had to stop once. We had it tough back in the ’70s! And that gives me the right to loudly gripe about the cushiness of modern childhood. But is that the best way for drivers like me to spend our automobile time? Why not think of my car as a spiritual retreat with a GPS, my commute an escape of sorts from everything I’ll be busy doing once I have, at last, arrived? The view through the windshield offers as much stimulation for contemplation and prayer as a stained-glass window. With this idea in mind, when
the school bus stops in front of me, I make an effort to focus on the uniqueness of each child boarding: Bless the kindergartner whose legs are too short for the bus steps, so she has to use her hands to scuttle up. Bless the gangly kid, carefully maneuvering a school project through that bifold door. And bless the teen whose self-consciousness is visible even from three car lengths away. It gets better, sweetheart. Ahh! That feels much nicer than frustration. And when I’ve slowed down again, I try to take another deep breath—especially when an ambulance or a fire truck is the delay. Its siren is an obvious signal that someone is suffering. What better reason can there be to say a prayer? God, grant courage and patience to those who hurt, speed and skill to those who help. I did not invent the notion of the car as a mobile monastery. The Vietnamese Buddhist monk Thich Nhat Hanh suggests that we regard red traffic lights as a “bell of mindfulness,” a signal that reminds us to stop, consciously bringing our minds back to our bodies, where we may rest in the present moment. There are so many reasons why it’s a good idea to “awaken” to the present when the driver in front of you has applied the brakes (and to hope the driver behind you wakes up as well!). If traffic is jammed, there might be time for a grateful prayer. Thank you, God, for movement and stillness, for darkness and light, for getting me home safely. Thank you for all the people you have given to me to love. Practicing loving-kindness ensures that all your travels will lead you closer to peace. KATE BRAESTRUP is a
bestselling author who serves as a chaplain for search-andrescue missions in Maine.
FROM TOP: PHILIP AND KAREN SMITH/GETTYIMAGES; BRIAN DOBEN.
Have FAITH
