So, I’m currently ‘between vehicles’. My most recent car was written off in an accident and, for a range of reasons, it hasn’t seemed necessary to replace it.
As a result, my children and I spend a lot of time in Uber vehicles. The kids have come to refer to the drivers, affectionately, as “Uber Uncles” (and occasionally “Aunties”), and our trips have afforded me many opportunities to actively parent. “Active parenting”, in my estimation, happens whenever a situation arises in which I can deliberately and consciously teach and model respect, compassion, work ethic, good neighborliness, etc.
My children are not the only ones learning though; I’ve also marveled at some of the life lessons available to me, when I take the time to tune in and observe. I’d like to share with you one of these more recent lessons, taught to me by a series of exchanges with some of these Uber Uncles. I’ve called this “The Lesson of Radical Acceptance, and the Power of Going with the Flow”.
First, some context: (forgive me if you’re well initiated). There is no “minimum distance requirement” in the Uber transport offering. One may digitally request a ride, even if one’s destination is mere blocks away. The app is engineered in such a way that the Uber Uncle is only informed of the destination once their “rider” is on board and the trip has been begun. A digital call for a collection rings through to numerous Uber vehicles close to the client in need. The first Uncle to answer is awarded the trip, and makes his way to the collection point. Only once the client is seated, does the app update to reveal the destination.
This is ‘pot luck’ on steroids, and can be the difference between 1 or 2$, and 40 or 50$ for the Uber Uncle. Moreover, a crummy current trip can also carry a weighty opportunity cost, insofar as the next caller might have been journeying far further.
Because I don’t own a vehicle, I use this service for a whole range of distances. I hail vehicles to pop to the neighborhood shop for bread and milk. I ‘Uber’ to meetings and functions well across town. And, on occasion, I even ‘Uber’ between cities.
And because I’m a Psychologist - also known as a “Human Shock Absorber” - I am acutely and painfully aware of how my trip destination impacts the psyche of my respective Uber Uncle. I sense his suspense as he starts the trip on his Smartphone. I sense his delight when I’m headed far. And I sense his inner sigh when I really could have (should have?) just walked.
Again possibly because I’m a psychologist, my natural inclination is to talk to the resulting ease or un-ease in the vehicle. I don’t see the point of him sitting there, alone in his joy or frustration that I have triggered. And so, more often than not, I initiate a discussion about their experience of their very interesting and textured work. And from these chats, I’ve learnt something about an element of human nature.
When I’m a ‘dud trip’, I get one of two responses. Most grunt and growl and sigh, perhaps good-naturedly, perhaps not. They talk about how bad business has been. How these short trips yield no gain for them. Or they drive in surly silence and low-grade passive aggression.
But to the contrary, my life teachers say things like, “Oh no! I love the opportunity to work. And I trust the system. I know to take the good with the bad, and I’ve learnt that if I just yield and go with it, it will all come out in the wash… Your short quick cheap trip could take me right into the proximity of the person, just in that moment, requesting a really long trip. If you didn’t need to go around the block, to the shop, I wouldn’t be in the right area to get the next long trip.”
They will reference how driving Uber is a mental game and a skill, and success depends entirely on mastering the psychological and intellectual challenges inherent to it. They will say that it’s imperative to ‘keep moving’. It’s better to be driving than to be parked. And, most importantly, if you yield to, and accept, what IS (like a 1$ trip), you open yourself up to possibilities that lie beneath that (like the inter-city trip from the dud-trip’s neighbor).
These Uber Uncles, in my estimation, are the Masters of the Universe, and teach all we need to know about the concept of “Radical Acceptance”. Radical Acceptance is the psychological principle of living life on life’s terms… Of embracing reality, without looking away. Of knowing that we cannot pretend that things are different to how they really are… We cannot will or wish troubling circumstances away… We cannot control “where our next trip will take us”. But we can manage how we think about that trip, and what impact we allow it to have on our lives.
The incredible author, M Scott Peck, starts his seminal masterpiece, “The Road Less Traveled”, with the simple advice, and I paraphrase his entire philosophy:
Life is hard. Once we accept this, and stop expecting it to be any other way, it somehow becomes less hard. In turn, we rather focus on developing skills to master this hard life, than defense mechanisms to distract us from how hard it is.
The first, more grumpy Uber Uncles, say, “it shouldn’t be this way! It’s not fair!” And they then get in the way of their own contentment, by feeling wronged, resentful, and hopeless.
The more inspiring Uber Uncles say, “I am part of a bigger, random system that works both for me, and against me. I’m not more special than the rest, to receive only long trips. Nor am I more wretched than the rest, to deserve only quickies. This is ALL the nature of the life I live and I need to accept this reality, in order to manage myself, in my world.
IN SUM:
Perhaps we could all benefit from having a really good look at the “as is” scenarios that we’re struggling with, warts and all – as my Uber Uncles do. And rather than feeling the injustice of them, or ignoring them, or pretending they’re not that way, we could radically accept reality simply as it is.
Somehow doing so inspires more creative troubleshooting, and thereby we become more responsible, empowered and ‘awake”.
And better equipped to manage the rough terrains that we encounter in this journey we call life.
