Reflecting While Staring At The Stoplight

If I had the choice, I wouldn’t stop now. I wouldn’t stop here, where I am one turn and less than two minutes away from my destination. That one uncontrollable incident never fails to happen when my goal is almost within reach. This red light reminds me of a truth I have heard several times before: There’s always something beyond my control.

I can keep my foot muscles tensed (like my heart muscles) by pressing against the brakes, or I can push the gear lever into neutral, and exhale. I have a choice even though my circumstance imposes limits. I choose to relax, let go of the wheel, and relax even more. Thirty to sixty seconds of reduced anxiety may be all I need to regulate my heartbeat.

So, I’m still staring at the stoplight, but I’m beginning to accept the facts: delays can have benefits; the world will not end because of this one; my choice to control my heart rate has a more profound effect on my life than my lack of control on the traffic light.

Believe it or not, I surprise myself by smiling. I glimpse at my rear view mirror and see the cars behind me. Another quick glance to my right and left affirms that there are still several others experiencing delay. Isn’t it awful how, while traveling on life’s journey, we become so self-absorbed that we fail to observe our fellow travelers?

At this moment, everyone halted at this intersection is in an equal-opportunity situation, none mightier or feebler than the other. We are all forced to stand still, equal in our lack of power to do otherwise. None can blame another for causing us to halt. None can use his or her privileges to move ahead and leave the rest of us behind.

I refocus my stare, and as if printed on the little red screen above me, my mind reads: There’s a part of the journey where I am commanded to stop, not only to recognize that there are others who share the same road; but also to acknowledge that stopping contributes to my safety—and the safety of all other travelers.

I become conscious of the travelers speeding through the green light, heading in the opposite direction, passing next to me in the lanes on my left. I wonder if they recognize how my red light benefits them; it constrains me to their advantage.

The color of their light signals the opportunity for them to move ahead, not because they are special or their schedule is more important than mine. It is simply because life requires that people take turns. While some advance, others facilitate their progress. Problem is that while those who stand and wait usually anticipate their turn to move, those who are moving seldom welcome their turn to stand and wait. We do well to remember that the green light is an opportunity we share, not a license we monopolize.

This time I talk to the red light: When my turn comes, I will move ahead with a sense of privilege, not pride. I will not take the opportunity for granted.

Still staring at the stoplight, I realize that traffic coming through the green light is slowing. I guess the moving motorists see a different color. Amber warns that change happens; that caution is necessary when making adjustments. It introduces the concept of waiting—a mature concept. Childish minds often do not appreciate it; they ignore the caution, resulting in collision which makes them and everyone else wait even longer.

I remember how I tried to speed through the intersection before my amber disappeared. Not only am I happy now that I acted sensibly and safely, I feel rested and alert. I recommend that all my fellow travelers take caution seriously--in traffic specifically, and in life generally.

Oh! So long, then. Thanks for the time to reflect and renew my energy so I can really enjoy the final phase of my journey.