I recently traveled to India for the first time. Everything I’ve heard about the driving was true.
Lane markers are mere suggestions.
There’s a beautifully intricate dance among rickshaws, cars and scooters.
And, there’s a melodic language of the horn that functions as less of a warning and more of a language.
Despite the lack of ‘order’, there’s no feeling of anger and road rage.
Instead, there among the chaos and cacophony, there’s a feeling of respect.
Without using words, each driver seems to say: “You come within a half-inch of hitting my car, but I know you won’t. We’re all just doing the best we can to share this space on the road that isn’t enough but is also plenty if we don’t believe we’re in a hurry.”
When we stop being in a hurry to claim time, to try to root it down, but instead to flow with it…somehow, the anger subsides.
When we realize there’s enough for everyone if someone doesn’t try to take more for themselves…
When you aren’t better or worse, but an equal. You on your journey and me on mine…
We all get exactly where we are supposed to go. No anger. No injury.
In a world like this, the bad drivers stand out.
The selfish speedster.
The amateur, tentative, slowpoke.
Their disregard changes the commute from a masterpiece of teamwork to a self-protective endeavor.
The way people drive is simply a product of a shared understanding of the gestures, the signals, the respect. And, it differs from country to country.
And, just like a toxic driver can throw safety into question, so can a toxic employee disrupt the ability of the greater group to get from here to there.
Don’t underestimate the power of one bad driver.