Gliding over the circumstances: that was my today. On paper, it looked like a small disaster. Just last night I was called Mr. Last Minute by someone who knows me well. So this morning I began with control and planning.
Last night, fresh off the affront, I pre-booked Uber for 0515 - timed with buffer for a 0830 flight. Then, two minutes before pickup, the ride vanished. No car, no backup options nearby, no explanation. I live in the comparative boonies so no other cars came to my rescue.
Historically, this situation might would have triggered me to some panic and lots of anger. Today, something different happened. I glided above it. I called a local limousine service (remember those) and 35 minutes later my journey kicked off without much emotional residue. My buffer was gone but I’d still make it in time.
By 0700 my journey collapsed again - literally. The car’s tire blew out on the Brooklyn-Queens Expressway, leaving us at the top of the Exit 2 off-ramp. Comical.
Cars were roaring past at 80+ mph, shaking the car from side-to-side. Respect to my driver, he tried to change the tire but the tire iron was mis-sized for the lug.
I knew I wouldn’t make my flight now but surprisingly I was filled with a lightness, almost amusement at the absurdity of it all. I noticed an inner float. I was in an objective mess - but perhaps not of my own doing. In that moment I didn’t even think about who to blame I simply glided over that. Oh well I figured, sending this text to a few peeps:
Locus of control
I first learned about the concept of locus-of-control from Shane Parrish around 2013. It means when your center is outside you (i.e. time management and other people), every change feels like a personal blow. When your center is inside you (i.e. awareness and perspective) external events still matter, but they do not dictate the quality of your presence. It’s possible to care about situational outcomes and still remain strangely unbothered.
Today I replaced “If only I had done X, this wouldn’t have happened” with gliding. The last two years have taught me that life does not guarantee frictionless execution, no matter how carefully I might try to arrange the details.
I’m rubber you are glue, whatever you say bounces off me and sticks to you.
-Most kids, everywhere
Today, circumstances lost their power against me, leaving me to practice responding as skillfully as possible. I pretended I was in a video game; how would this story unfold in real time?!
What time you fly?
Um, my flight is at 8:30. It’s going to be tight, man. I’m not sure if I’m going to make this flight now.
8:30? Yeah, you got time.
He proceeded to book me an Uber - from the top of the BQE 🤣
35 minutes later
You pay me in cash or credit card?
(His dispatcher gets on the speaker phone: “Pay my driver, pay my driver because he paid for the for for for the Uber.”)
El maldito dominicano que estoy que yo diablo con esa maldita llave.
I paid him and then was shuttled the rest of the way by a nice Uber driver.
35 minutes to spare
7:58am: arrived to the airport
The Copa desk will open at 10:00am.
Ah. Okay. Cuz I’m on the flight at 8:30. I’m already checked in though.
8:30 flight?!!!!
Yeah.
The boarding is closed. It’s already eight.
I know. My car fell uh it broke down on the uh the highway.
You have the boarding pass?
Yeah.
Go ahead. Pleasant flight.
I got to the gate just as they closed the gangway door. Luckily the nice gate agent took pity on me and reopened it for me. His assistant got in the last licks however, highlighting there was no more space for my carry-on: a small price to pay at this point.
Two minutes later, I finally found myself on the plane.
And then this happened
Mine was the middle-seat in row 23: a plum spot next to an older woman who was tracing the sign of the cross before takeoff. My seat was one of those with limited legroom on the right side due to the entertainment equipment box blocking the area.
I fell asleep quickly, but soon was awake again after feeling something warm on my leg.
In this small human moment, the whole theme of gliding reappeared in a different form. She, too, seemed to be gliding over the circumstances: trusting The Holy Ghost to steer the plane, at least enough to surrender into sleep. Despite her encroaching on my space she had a quiet presence, which contrasted sharply with my morning of logistics. She was in a cramped seat, far from her home in Cuenca (I later learned), full of her own history and reasons to worry. Yet here we were; both suspended above the world, deciding not to be dominated by everything that could go wrong. Her ritual signing of the cross was her way of handing over control to something larger.
Equanimity
An evenness of mind that stays steady amid shifting conditions.
Today it felt less like a technical skill and more like floating; like my emotions had less density. I didn’t get angry. I had no fear. My practical mind kept working and my emotional body stayed up. And now as I write this, the gliding seems to have changed how I remember today’s unsavory series of events. If rage had taken me over, I might be cursing Saul, even now.
Instead my memory of today is textured with gratitude and even fondness: Jimmy’s taxi driver who still found a way to get me there and Rosia my grandmotherly neighbor whose presence grounded my flight.
For me gliding is my new practice of choosing where to rest my attention. The basic fact is that I am alive and capable. I cannot always choose the shape of the day, but I can choose to carry its weight as air.
