The Detour

In most areas of my life, I’ve learned to embrace the journey.

However, that’s not usually the case when I’m driving to mundane destinations.

Take a grocery run.

I just want to get there and back as quickly as possible. I mean, how can you really enjoy a route you’ve traveled hundreds of times?

I accept that it’s a very boring means to a very boring but necessary end.

But that doesn’t mean I can’t try to mitigate the boring part as much as possible.

I wish I could say the story I’m about to tell you happened years ago, when I could use the wild abandon of youth as an excuse.

It didn’t.

It happened last month.

Unfortunately, I’ve always had a proclivity for speeding.

I’m a hummingbird darting from one place to the next.

Not because I’m late.

I just want to move on to the next thing.

Life is short, and there’s far too much to do that doesn’t involve lollygagging in traffic.

So, when I had an appointment a few weeks ago, I tackled the journey like I always have.

Car in the wind.

Mind racing even faster.

But this time was different.

This time, I had a partner in crime, so to speak.

Apparently, I wasn’t the only one who wanted to challenge the laws of physics, or the traffic laws for that matter.

A mild-looking white sedan took the lead, and like NASCAR drivers or a synchronized flock of birds, we wove in and out of traffic as if we’d rehearsed the moves.

It was beautiful.

We were catching all the green lights, and I was making really good time.

It almost felt like a game.

And for once, I was actually enjoying the journey.

Sadly, it wasn’t meant to last.

As we approached a yellow traffic light with no hint of slowing down, another car, whose driver obviously had different plans, pulled into the lane between us.

I was forced to hit the brakes.

My co-conspirator breezed through the light, which by then had turned red.

I watched enviously as the white sedan disappeared down the road while I sat behind the person responsible for this inconvenient delay.

Was I annoyed with the driver who’d thrown a wrench into my plans?

I’m ashamed to say I was.

Not road-rage angry.

But definitely peeved.

Finally, the light turned green.

I was ready to get back up to speed.

At the first opportunity, I intended to pass this driver who apparently believed traffic lights were more than mere suggestions.

But before I got the chance, I saw it.

The white sedan.

Pulled over on the side of the highway.

And standing beside it was a rather gruff-looking State Trooper, likely asking the most rhetorical question in all of law enforcement:

“Do you know how fast you were going, ma’am?”

Suddenly, that annoying driver in front of me didn’t seem quite so irritating.

Had that car not pulled into my lane, I very likely would have been sitting beside the road too, awaiting a costly ticket of my own.

I decided not to pass.

In fact, I decided not to speed for the rest of the trip.

And you know what?

I still got there on time.

I still accomplished everything I intended to accomplish that day.

Most importantly, I made it home safely and without paying a penalty for trying to get there a few minutes faster.

Did the lesson stick?

Well, the jury’s still out.

No pun intended.

Some days are easier than others.

And when I see another driver flying down the highway, there’s still a little part of me that wants to join them.

But something did change that day.

Now, when I find myself irritated by a delay, a mistake, or something that sends my plans in a direction I didn’t intend, I sometimes think about that white sedan.

Because I think we do the same thing in business.

We decide where we’re going.

We map out how we’re going to get there.

And once we’re moving, anything that slows our progress can feel like a problem.

The client who isn’t ready.

The plan that takes longer than expected.

The opportunity that doesn’t materialize.

The mistake that forces us to stop and reconsider.

The unexpected turn we never would have chosen.

Our first instinct is often to get around it as quickly as possible so we can get back up to speed.

But faster isn’t always better.

And a delay isn’t necessarily lost time.

Sometimes the pause gives us information we didn’t have before.

Sometimes it gives us time to notice something we would have missed.

Sometimes it keeps us from rushing into a decision we aren’t ready to make.

And sometimes it redirects us away from something we were pursuing simply because we’d already decided that was where we were supposed to go.

I don’t think patience means sitting still and hoping everything works itself out.

Sometimes we absolutely need to move.

But maybe patience is also knowing when we don’t need to fight quite so hard against whatever is slowing us down.

Because that driver didn’t ruin my trip that day.

She changed it.

And from where I’m standing now, I’m awfully glad she did.

Not every delay is an obstacle.

Sometimes the thing standing between us and where we think we need to be is the very thing keeping us from ending up somewhere we don’t.