The Mundanely Miraculous

I am often amazed by the many small things that come together to make a functioning whole. Take driving, for instance. Most of us do it every day. How often have you stopped to notice the magic in it?

First, there are these amazing machines, a little dirty, yes, but full of inventiveness and adventure. I'm not talking about auto industry ads that portray driving across some pristine wilderness as if its a private and highly romantic moment. What a heap of dung. I'm talking about the long list of people who said, "I think I could make that better..."

We have rack and pinion steering, anti lock brakes, seat belts, air bags, automatic transmissions, overdrive, four wheel drive, more horsepower than we need, and cd players that ignore the bumps in the road. All because of the very human need to improve things. We bought a Prius. It's green, both literally and figuratively. I drove it only on side roads, one time last week. As an experiment, I drove very gently, no sudden acceleration, no powering up hills. I could go ninety percent of the time with no gasoline engine, only the batteries. How many innovators have contributed to that moment of quiet play? Hundreds, at least.

I drive an SUV, whenever I'm working. I need the ability to haul a huge trailer full of sand or soil or gravel. I got cut off, the other day, at a place where traffic merges from two lanes to one. Ticked me off, to be sure. I don't like to see the selfish and opportunistic side of my fellow humans. But I also noticed that it was the only such incident in months. Most of the time, people cooperate.

What about lane lines? That's my favorite driving miracle. It's just paint, and not that much of it. And we have this agreement, as a society, to play like they're boundaries. It works, too! Hundreds of thousands of drivers hit the central Texas highways every day. What's amazing to me is that we have so few problems. Sure, there are accidents. It seems to me, though, that there could be many more. Somewhere between self preservation and caring about others, we actually do our best to cooperate.

So next time you get behind the wheel, or sit as a passenger, glance out the window. Remind yourself of the power of human cooperation. Maybe we can start working together on bigger things.

Namaste,
Crow