Sunday morning, at around 9:00, traffic on the Kennedy was pretty light. I was driving to my meditation center where I had been going most Sunday mornings to chant, meditate, and – basically to get grounded for the week. I was listening to Breakfast with the Beatles, a favorite segment on my favorite radio pre-set. Having only a short distance to travel by expressway, I was hanging out in the right lane, singing along with Paul. “Two of us riding nowhere, spending someone’s hard earned pay. You and me Sunday driving, not arriving on our way back home. We’re on our way home….”

I was sort of rocking out in my little Honda when, to my right, I caught sight of a similarly sized, old, blue car, cruising slowly, getting on at the North Avenue ramp. Unlike many of the downtown entrances, the North Avenue ramp goes on for a while, affording a pretty good chance to size up the speed of highway traffic and plot your move. As I watched the car to my right, it was clear that the driver had a choice. He could either speed up or slow down. No great speed change was required, just enough so that when his forward progress intersected with mine, he would comfortably be either in front of me or behind me.

But no — I ranted to myself as he pulled just in front of me in my lane. The whole damn highway is practically empty and this guy has to get on in such a way that I have to put on my brakes. Does he have his head up his ass? Can’t he see me? Doesn’t he look where he’s going… The Two of Us was almost at the chorus, “You and I have memories…” when all I could think was, I hate people who can’t merge.

Strong words, I realized. I noticed feeling differently in my body. I was gripping the steering wheel more tightly. My head sat on my neck with greater tension, like a bobblehead doll assembled with an over-coiled spring. My throat and mouth seemed to have suddenly gone dry. I stopped breathing. I stopped singing. What happened to ME? I was in no danger of a collision. I just had to apply my brakes. While indulging in a heated inner rant on how other drivers should respect the flow of traffic, I lost MY FLOW, the only thing I can control.

Breathe. Breathe, I told myself. Look at the traffic going northbound. It’s heavier than usual. Wonder where they’re going on a Sunday morning. Stay in the right lane, I told myself. The Ogden ramp is only two more exits from here. I instructed myself to observe the world with openness and see what better things, if anything at all, my mind would choose to latch on to. Hmm, I noticed a large car dealership just off the highway. When did this open? And then, I heard the music again.

“Two of us wearing raincoats, standing solo, in the sun. You and me chasing paper, getting nowhere, on our way back home. We’re on our way home…”

Remembering not to let anything take you out of your own flow is no small thing.