To the Protege: Do You Flash Your Lights?

A great deal of my living takes place in Southern states. This is the land of Southern hospitality, and Southern charm. It's not at all uncommon for me to be winding down a rural, old Kentucky road to have a farmer pass me pulling a load of tobacco or cattle. It is also not uncommon to see the farmer give the "two finger wave," just lifting of a couple fingers off the steering to say, "I see you there, and I wish you well as we travel." Often, even a smile is offered. In the spirit of this hospitality, there's one ritual I have come to appreciate (even though it comes with its own ethical question).

I was driving down one of these country roads this week, enjoying the feel of fresh new tires, biting into the cold hard surface of winter (and not really paying attention to my speedometer), when it happened.

One of the cars approaching me from the opposite direction flashed his lights two times in succession. When this occurs, I have come to expect something around the corner will require my special attention. Sometimes it means: "watch out, a cow is standing in the middle of the road." It has happened. Sometimes it means: "be careful, there may be ice or a distressed vehicle, or some other kind of obstacle which cannot easily be converted to grill steaks if hit at the speed I'm traveling." But usually, it means: check your speed, a police officer—radar gun at the ready—is waiting for you just around the bend." Last week when it happened, it wasn't a cow, but a cop (and my speed was right on target...this time).

It's kind of nice to have a little advance warning, to check yourself, to decide whether you want to proceed at the speed or even the path you're on. It's a kindness to have the lights flash, to have a jolt of sudden self-awareness. It’s not that we are "being bad" or trying to get away with something, but just as we are cruising along with competing demands for our attention and abilities, we may fail to keep track of some indicators that just might matter to our own safety and the safety of those around us.

In the last week, I had passers-by flash their lights at me, both literally and metaphorically. Literally, the lights signaled there was something ahead to be aware of and I instinctively looked down at my speedometer and eased off the gas (even though I was going the speed limit). It was the fact that I know I have the habit of being somewhat of a "lead foot" that I so reacted. But metaphorically, the lights flashed me into stark awareness when I caused hurt through accident and inattention, but also by moving so fast that I did not consider how my actions would impact others. I WAS going way too fast. The difficult conversation that followed served as a signal to me to pay attention to my speed, distraction, and limits. Who knows what consequences may have been around the bend if I had not absorbed the signal to slow down, pay attention to my dashboard more carefully, and travel at the pace set without looking ahead for traps.

Since that moment, I have visited with a couple of peer mentors and a senior mentor as well, to discuss my pace. They heard me. They reflected back insights about how we have been talking about matters of pace for the past few months. They agreed this slow-down message was a gift that only other travelers on the same road might have been able to give.

I rested in the gift of community that makes me better. The mentors who knew me added to that community and I positively radiated with security and readiness to start my travels anew...this time at the speed of consideration, compassion, and connection—with others and myself.

Protégés, do you pick up on the signals from the other travelers around you? Do you have mentors to make sense of their meaning? Add these questions to the things you are thinking over the next time someone "flashes their lights" at you.

#protege #signals