As past posts have suggested, I have recently become addicted to Mayim Bialik’s podcast, Breakdown. Although still several years behind, I recently listened to the Timber Hawkeye episode, which led me to his podcast, Buddhist Boot Camp.

I am fascinated by Buddhist philosophy and intrigued by Timber Hawkeye.

I am hooked.

Surprised that a devout Christian would be interested in other religions and traditions? I am sure some people would be rather appalled. I am certain, however, that Jesus is not. In fact, I believe the most detrimental aspect of my faith and witness is ignorance.

Just as the pandemic began to make national news and gossip of the what-ifs seeped into general conversations, a friend and I began attending a Buddhist temple. I confessed to the group moderator that my intent was to expand my knowledge with the sole goal of becoming a better chaplain. The group welcomed me and invited me to come as frequently as I liked and to ask as many questions as I chose.

I only attended two before the pandemic shut down the world.

I haven’t returned, but correlations between their belief system and mine still intrigue me.

As my own mental health declined during the pandemic, I longed for the peace and tranquility of the Buddhist.

I longed for the acceptance they so graciously bestowed upon me, an outsider.

So, my quick fascination with Timber Hawkeye was of little surprise to me. Although I have yet to read his books, the short soundbites of his podcasts give me wonderful food for thought – and as he suggests, lessons for change.

It is his outlook on traffic that first grasped my attention during the Mayim Bialik podcast, something I put into practice the first time I felt myself growing agitated while in traffic after listening to that episode:

“We are not stuck in traffic. We ARE traffic.”

When we stop viewing other drivers as the problem and recognize that we are a part of it (one vehicle in a sea of other vehicles), it is no longer us versus them. It becomes we.

I love the saying, “change your thinking, change your world.” I have no idea the origin of that statement, but the traffic scenario is one simple yet profound way to do just that. Once I reflected on the fact that I am not stuck in traffic, that these other cars are not doing anything to or against me, that I am one of them, that we are a collective whole, my stress and anxiety level diminished.

I realized Timber Hawkeye’s reflection upon our place in traffic goes deeper than mere traffic. It seeps into all of life – if we will let it.