I Drove to Work in Silence

I drove to work in silence yesterday.  For about an hour…no sound other than the world around me.

 

Two days prior to yesterday, I charged up my MP3 player’s battery.  When it was ready, I unplugged it and stuff it into the pocket of my coat.  The next day, my littlest dude was sick.  My wife had to work, so I took a day off work and stayed home with him.  I didn’t use my MP3 player at all.

Yesterday, my morning routine went as normal.  I got in my car and set up my MP3 player.  I loaded an inspirational talk on it, and I intended to begin my morning by listening to it.  I started driving to work.  It was dark out (I get pretty honkin’ early), and a little drizzle was falling.  My car was quiet.  I needed the few minutes it takes to get on the highway to clear my mind, to reset from the day before.  It had been a long day.  Taking care of a sick child can be tiring.  I also took the time to complete a few projects around the house.  The night didn’t go too well.  My wife and I had a disagreement, and…well…in the morning I was still sore from the indignities I had convinced myself that I had suffered the night before.  I am, after all, never in the wrong.

When I was settled, I turned my car radio on and switched over to the input for my MP3 player.  I turned my MP3 player on and started the proper track.  I followed the meditation and breathing instructions, allowed myself to become more centered, and eased into my drive.  At about minute marker 5:37, the voice coming through my speakers said:

“So let’s start off with these two questions: ‘Who aren’t I?’ and ‘Who am I?’”

Pause for dramatic effect.  Perfect intonation at the end, drawing you in, opening the heart and mind.

Silence.  Silence.  OK…a little too dramatic.  No sound came from the speakers other than the hiss of the radio.  The hiss continued, hungrily awaiting the next bit of input from my little digital device.  But nothing came.

I switched over to the FM tuner.  Instantly, the sound of inane morning DJ’s flooded the car as they went on and on nonsensically.  I switched back to my MP3 player immediately.

Nothing.  Silence.

I looked my MP3 player.  It was off.  That struck me as odd.  I turned it back on.  Blue light filled the front of my car as the boot-up sequence started.  Suddenly, the image of a battery filled the screen.  The battery was red indicating that it had no juice.  It shut down again immediately.

Silence.  Then, from inside my mind:

Who aren’t I?  Who am I?

 

Despite the silence outside, on the inside, the words hung heavily in my mind.  I could see them.  I could hear them.

Who aren’t I?  Who am I?

 

A few minutes later, I saw the tail lights of the cars a few yards down the road begin to brighten as they slowed down.  Traffic thickened.  Then, I noticed the flashing red, white, and blue lights of various emergency vehicles.  As I approached, it was clear that there had been an accident on the other side of the highway.  Four cars had been involved, and the two in worst shape were mangled but not overturned.  One of the two was pointing against the traffic.  The remaining two cars were farther behind the first two.  It was obvious they had attempted to stop hard.  In the wet weather, one rear-ended the other.  Between the two sets of cars, an ambulance stood with the rear doors wide open.  Someone on a gurney was being pushed into it. 

Who aren’t I?  Who am I? 

 

The perceived indignities I had suffered the night before didn’t seem quite as important as they previously had.  I wondered if the person being ushered into the ambulance had the chance to think about anything as the accident happened.  I wondered if they had unfinished business from the day before.  I wondered if they had chosen to hold their spouse close the night before.  I wondered if they had ever lost sight of the person they aspire to be.

Who aren’t I?  Who am I? 

I was grateful for those questions.  I felt a deep appreciation for the opportunity to contemplate the answers.

 

Except for the ambient sounds of the world around me, I drove to work in silence yesterday.