… I turn off the engine, open the door, pick up my briefcase … I don’t remember the drive … did I notice the ocean … hey, it’s kinda windy today …
Arriving to work on autopilot.
… back home … laundry, check … start dinner, check … homework, check … dishes, check … fall into bed and start all over again.
Autopilot is the enemy that robs my soul of the satisfaction of a life filled with hard work, meaningful relationships, family, faith, friends, music, words, ideas, dancing, laughter. When I’m on autopilot, I forget to see the people in front of me; I forget to breathe the fresh air and smell the rain-kissed earth; I forget to taste the food; feel the raindrops; relish the hugs; I forget the blessing.
It’s like when you’re reading a book and you get to the end of the page and realize that you have no idea what you’ve just read. Your heart wasn’t in it; your mind wasn’t on it.
That’s no way to read a story.
And it’s certainly no way to live a story. Unlike my book, I can’t go back and re-read my life. I need to pay attention this time.
No more autopilot.
This post is an entry in The Importance of Story over at Chris Brogan’s blog.