Why I like potholes
Potholes are my morning obstacle course reminder of our shared humanity.
Living in the Twin Cities (Minnesota, US) means that over the past five months, my commute to work has been ever-evolving and increasingly dangerous. The thawing and freezing of water seeping into the asphalt during the winter months causes large holes, cracks, and general deterioration of roads. It’s annoying and hazardous.
(Although, realistically, isn’t–like, everything?)
I choose to be grateful for potholes. This treacherous expansion of crumbling roadway disrupts the muscle-memory habit of Carly-driving-to-work.
This is a blessing.
Disruption is good.
We need to be gently jostled by life to remind us how we are immensely interconnected. Being drawn back into the present moment offers respite from the looping narratives of our minds. and offers momentary respite from the looping narratives of our minds. My approach is likely uncommon, but I’ve always viewed driving as a collaborative sport. Because–holy shit–how can it not be? We’re all a bunch of idiot-humans easily distracted with thoughts and emotions operating driving-machines at high speeds with varying degrees of competency in shared space–doesn’t working together feel obvious?
However, when driving, working together doesn’t feel like a shared expectation or understanding–until our shared roads are tangled in disrepair. Then, we are forced to pay more attention to oncoming traffic. We must be willing to adjust trajectory, slow down, or wait accounting for the needs of others. Our awareness is inevitably drawn back into the present moment, over and over–because it has to–look at these fucking roads! They’re bonkers-dangerous! Teamwork is required and mutually beneficial. This annual disruption forces us outside of our habits, and reminds us in little ways, how interconnected we are at any given moment, and the shared value in considering the needs of strangers.
My commute to work is now a form of mindfulness and compassion practice. I focus on the road and traffic while remaining patient. A form of survival mode-lite gets engaged. I need to give my attention to the present moment, in every moment, of my commute to stay safe. This calm keeps me in the best position to move safely forward, meeting the unexpected while hopefully not accidentally blowing a tire. (I’ve been through that shit before.) Potholes highlight a shared same-ness. Regardless of race, religion, age, finances, etc, here we are–together.
We all have to move from place to place in this frozen hellscape on the same shitty roads.
But then, aren’t you at least grateful for these shitty roads? And the fact somehow we’ve been able to not be complete-murderous-dickheads to each other long enough to develop civil engineering? Electricity? Indoor plumbing? Aren’t you grateful this oppressive amount of snow will [eventually] melt and help mitigate regional drought conditions?
We have so much to offer each other and be grateful for. Try offering yourself or others a little calm compassion the next time you are out. What does it feel like to meet each moment as a collaborative experience? Is it easy for you to slow down and reassess? How does it feel in your body to meet minor disruptions with compassion, creativity, or even a couple deep breaths (instead of allowing frustration to ruminate)?
Our perspectives are a choice. The quality of our lives is built by how we choose to meet these difficulties as they arise. Therefore, I’m choosing to appreciate potholes.
