The Road as Teacher

I have been on the road conducting my own seminars, or workshops at New Age festivals, the better part of my adult life. There were periods when it has been a great joy and others when I have to admit to a love/hate relationship with my occupation.

These days, the road is usually a joyful, mellow experience. Why? Because the road had taught me the lessons I needed to fully enjoy the experience.

To be self-actualized is to accept that what is, is, and to accept others without judgment, blame, expectations, or trying to control. Add a little detached mind and a dose of compassion to those traits, and you can expect a mellower life.

Resisting what is, is futile. What is, is unalterable -- something that cannot be changed. The road teaches the lesson quickly. Planes get canceled, weather conditions cannot be overridden, hotels screw up, and sleep deprivation is part of the game.

The day following the Hypnotist Training in Columbus, OH, I arrived at the airport the requested two hours early to catch a plane home. Shortly before boarding, the flight was canceled. Instead of arriving in Los Angeles at noon, I was routed all over America before deplaning at 9:30 PM. By the time I fell into my own bed, I'd been up 24 hours. There was no value in resisting, because that's what is.

At a recent seminar, the meeting room I was scheduled to use for an evening session had been double booked, and the Baptist Church had priority. We could, however, use the breakfast room. We ended up talking about past lives surrounded by juice machines, a waffle maker and coffee dispensers. What is, is. There was nothing I could do about any of it. So I did not get upset, even for a moment.

I am not advising that you roll over and take whatever is being dished out. I never do that. But at the time, you have to decide if a situation is what is, or if it is alterable. And if it is alterable, will it be worth the cost of fighting it?

As Buddha said, "It is your resistance to what is that causes your suffering." And I don't like to suffer. After the fact, I demanded a reduction in the room charges, and I doubt I will use that hotel in the future.

When it comes to accepting others without judgment, the road offers ample opportunities. I often interact with people who are so burned out and angry, I'm tempted to call them on their act. Once in awhile I do. But more often than not, I send them light and respond with assertiveness-training techniques. My goal is to win the game, not to get to be right.

Three weeks ago, I feared an Atlanta airline employee might explode before my very eyes. When I "tuned-in" to her, I perceived impressions of a relationship breakup. As a result, she had no energy left to be compassionate with travelers. And that's what is.

We book hotels in the quietest possible meeting rooms and always seek to avoid the sliding cardboard room dividers so prevalent in hotel ballrooms. But when I ended up with only a cardboard divider between my section of the ballroom and a Mexican wedding celebration (complete with brass band) on the other side of the divider, there was nothing I could do. There were no other rooms in the hotel. Realistically, could the hotel tell the bride and groom to go elsewhere? We made due.

Another lesson the road teaches is in regard to expectations. Expectations are killers. If you are going to get upset when circumstances and other people are not the way you expect them to be, do not travel. Period.

Viewpoint is an ongoing lesson. I still remind myself on occasion, that I am free to view any situation harmoniously or disharmoniously. I sometimes commit to appearances that turn out to offer no potential for profit. Sometimes, there is not enough money to cover expenses. But in such situations, there are usually side benefits. Maybe I have fun with friends, or I make contacts that will be of value in the future. Life simply works better if I choose to view such situations harmoniously.

The road also offers opportunities for peace, quiet and meditation. Unless I have to be on stage, I can do long, leisurely yoga sessions, write on a book in progress, answer e-mail, and talk on the phone uninterrupted to friends and family.

Patti Conklin and I were recently having breakfast in a hotel when another seminar trainer came to our table and asked, "Well, how are two of my favorite road warriors."

Road warriors? I laughed out loud.