The Road Most Traveled

by Victor Dougherty

I think it is interesting to notice how Eastern philosophy describes life as a path, almost as if it were a walk through a lightly wooded area. Here in the West, life is often compared to a highway. My comparison is different only with regard to the patrolman waiting around the bend. That’s right, on life’s highway I got a ticket; a ticket for speeding.
Of course, I didn’t realize it at the time but officer Karma was doing me a favor. Oh how I pleaded and carried-on, but his face remained stoic and rigid as he continued to write-out the citation.
“Why were you going so fast?” he asked in a low, authoritative voice.
“Actually, I am not sure but I know I’ve always done it and when I do I don’t feel much pain.” I also tried explaining that this wasn’t my fault, if I’m busy and going fast I look important, people will like me better…and if they like me they won’t leave me.”

With a Mona Lisa smile he ripped the tickets out of the aluminum-backed clip board and handed them to me. I could see myself in his dark sunglasses, perhaps for the first time ever. As he turned to go he pointed the way and said “watch out for the detours,” I would come to know what he meant later.
Sitting for a moment, I put my sky blue AMC Pacer in gear and headed back out onto the open road. Things were much different now, for one, it was brighter. I could see better, the landscape was different, many of the concrete buildings and institutions that were so important were gone, crumbled, there was a certain beauty in the emptiness around me. All I could see now were signposts; they were much clearer now and seem to speak right to my heart. The first one read:
STOP JUDGING
Well, that was short I thought. Whoa, there I go judging already, you idiot didn’t the sign just tell you…hey! Idiot is a judgment! Well, It’s better to be an idiot than a hypocrite, wait, isn’t “better” a judgment? Suddenly another sign appeared:
QUIET THE MIND
That was good timing. As I drove on I decided to turn on the radio, however I could only get one station now:

“You’re listening to OM, the sound of the universe, reminding you that each being is a beautiful note in one grand cosmic symphony.”

I think it was a country station because the DJ said “stay tuned for more Dalai!”
Just then I noticed a car tailgating me. As I looked at the other drivers around me on the road, some were in the slow lanes, smiling, waving their traffic tickets at me and seeming to enjoy the ride. Others were speeding past us in a blur of driving, talking on the cell phone, eating a burger and yelling at the other drivers. I felt differently for them now, they reminded me, of me, and I knew they too would someday meet officer Karma.

At this point the skies became cloudy and rain began to fall, I started remembering old events, relationships and feelings. Up ahead I came upon a large flashing orange detour sign and thought I better take it, at least it felt like the right thing to do. I changed lanes and made a right-hand turn when right in front of me on the shoulder was a police car. He flashed his lights at me and motioned for me to pull over in front of him.
“I didn’t think I was doing anything wrong!” I begged.
“First, you didn’t pay attention to the sign because you were supposed to turn left. Second, you didn’t pay attention to me because I told you to watch-out for the detours. Why don’t you listen?”
“Well, sir, that’s a very good question. I think that the mind wants to jump ahead during conversations so it can come up with responses that will control situations or appear witty and funny because that is how I have coped with discomfort, and people make me uncomfortable because they judge me…
Officer Karma stopped writing for a minute and I added…”because I judge them.”
He smiled and tore the ticket for “inattentive driving” out of the now familiar aluminum backed clip board. As he handed it to me he said:
“Well just remember boy there is a reason God gave you two ears and only one mouth. Have a nice day, unless you have other plans.”
As I pulled back on the road I came to a sign that said: “Aversionopolis 1 mile,”
I was feeling hunger pangs so I thought this could be a good place to visit. Just then my cell phone began to ring it sounds like this: (bell) I pulled over to answer it.
“Hello?”
“Those aren’t hunger pangs.” The voice said.
“Excuse me?”
“Where do you feel it in the body?”
“Well, up here near my heart.” I said.
“See, the nourishment you need is in Sanghaville, turn around and get back on the road, and go past the detour you’ll come to it soon.”
“Thanks, but who are you?’ I asked.
The voice retorted, “question is, who are you?”
It was nice to be on the road again, peaceful, funny how I only know that now because I have been on the road before, I have at least experienced a little peace. It seems we only know things through contrast.

The voice on the phone was right, Sanghaville was just ahead and as I entered the quaint little town I noticed how friendly people were. Everyone was smiling and waving and no one laughed at my sky blue AMC Pacer. I pulled up to a little place called “Café Namasté” on the small green chalk board above the shiny counter was the daily special: “Truth on a bun, with a side of compassion salad” I asked the friendly guy behind the counter how much the special was, he said;
“Well it might hurt a little, but it’s free.”
His voice was familiar, “why will it hurt?” I asked.
He just said, “I don’t know, but it often does.”
“Well, ok I’ll take that.”
He then pointed behind me at a table and said “it’s already there.” When I turned around I noticed all the people in the café were setting my table and sharing their own truth and compassion with me. We talked for hours and told each other stories of the road and though they were different, they also seemed to be exactly the same. As I finished and was thanking all of my new friends a stranger came in, he looked a little hungry. As he sat down I brought him a fresh bowl of compassion salad, and though I didn’t eat any dessert, watching the stranger clear that bowl was more fulfilling than any chocolate cake.

When I got back into my Pacer I noticed that not only would it hold more than four people, it was holding a lot more than four people, I think every person on the planet was in there. In the passenger seat was a beautiful girl unfolding a road map and saying:
“If we go this way we might be able to catch the turnpike!”
Time seemed to disappear as we traveled together. Sometimes in silence and sometimes we would sing or talk. Sometimes people would come and go but still everything seemed to be perfect just the way it was.

At the top of the approaching hill I could see some flashing orange detour signs, I thought maybe I better take it, see what I get for thinking?
As soon as I got onto the detour and turned around to ask everyone what they thought, I realized that everyone was gone; I seemed to be alone in my car again. However, it didn’t look like it was going to be difficult to get the answers to my questions, because there were so many roadside stands on this route. Every 10feet or so was another stand and lots of people. This one sells answers in a pill or rolled up in a cigarette. This one sells answers in a bottle. That one over there sells answers from a pulpit and next to it is one that sells answers in the form of lots of new and shiny things. Oh! there is a favorite, the video game stand! I ran back to my car to get my credit card, which has always been an answer for me, when I noticed officer Karma writing a ticket and placing it on my windshield.
“This is a no parking zone, why did you park here?”
But officer Karma these stands help me forget! They mask the pain and they help me when I feel bored.” He just shook his head.
Then my cell phone rang (bell) but this time there was no voice, only silence, and in the silence I could feel peace and suddenly the questions to which I needed the answers to, so desperately, no longer mattered.
I gathered my ticket off of the windshield and got back on the road. The closer I got to it the more people from Sanghaville started to show up. The beautiful girl with the road map reminded me that I should stop at the court house and take care of these tickets.
As I entered the courtroom there were no benches only cushions and blankets. The room was quite full; many people from many backgrounds seem to be meeting up with officer Karma. The bailiff poked his head in the door and exclaimed:
“All sit”
So I pulled up a cushion and waited for awhile. When I closed my eyes the judge appeared; he was young, thin, salt and pepper hair, I’m not sure about the beard though, and anyway he spoke to me.
“You got quite a handful of tickets there”
Mmmm, nice voice I thought. “Yes sir, I keep getting them”
“I suppose you will too, are they teaching you anything?” he asked.
“Well yes, I seem to learn more from the tickets than the detours. And both seem to point to a pattern of sabotaging my journey altogether.”

He took the gavel and he hit the bell on his desk and said:
“Good, your fine is 100 Buddha bucks.”
As I walked outside all of my friends were standing around the car applauding.
Once again we were on the road talking, singing and enjoying the silence together. I could see what appeared to be a toll booth ahead and a sign that said:
“The Great Way Turnpike”
I pulled up to the booth and the window slid to the side, the guy inside looked familiar.
I asked him how much the toll was and he said:
“Whatever you want to give, just do it with a generous heart as those who have gone before you have done.”
As I gave him my money I asked what the road ahead was like. He said that parts of it were nice and parts of it were on fire.
“Where does it go?” I asked
“I don’t know” he said.
“Are there any detours on this road?” I questioned.
“Oh you better believe it buddy! And you’re not the only one who takes them! Now, do you have anymore questions?” he asked
“Yes.” I responded.
He then smiled and said “Good! Something else for you to let go of.”
And from there we just drove into our day.