In a panic, a friend of mine messaged me recently. After fourteen faithful years with the company that he worked for, he was unceremoniously laid off. With a simple, blunt and to the point message, his career and financial situation were thrown into turmoil. The steady income that he and his family had enjoyed was gone in an instant.
As we verbally lifted the rubble away from the destruction left behind, he admitted that he wasn’t exactly shocked by what happened. He had seen this happen to a few of his co-workers. The budget cuts that had been consistently put into place had raised his eyebrows as well. He knew throughout it all that he should be paying more attention. He read both of my books, and on occasion, mentioned the business that he wanted to start. But each time, he didn’t take action because there was no pressing need to get started. The job was comfortable and the money was good. But he was cruising along loosely and lost sight of the danger lurking.
I have empathy because I’ve done that so many times. But one stands out clearer than any other. And it has nothing to do with money.
Let me just say, my first car was awesome. Yet I’ve never been a “car guy.” In fact, my first car may have been my nicest. I saved for a few years to buy it. It was a gold Mustang that had been the envy of my friends since the day I pulled up to work with the sunroof open. Not only was it gorgeous, but it has a cool history. It was a pace car from the Indianapolis 500, adorned with the official label.
My girlfriend at the time loved the car too. I think she liked it more than she liked me. But, whatever. I looked cool.
Because of the “cool” factor, I took the car everywhere. I went out of my way to drive people home from parties just because I loved being in that car. One night, I was at a party in Jackson Heights, Queens. A guy named Augie- who I kind of knew- had to get home to Long Island.
“Let’s go,” I said.
I drove an hour east to get him home, and then sped back to finish the night in Queens. Did I mention that the gold Mustang was fast? I wanted to get back to the party quickly, so I hit a speed of more than 100 miles an hour to make it back quickly. (Don’t do this at home, kids. I was stupid.) While I was flying down the Northern State Parkway, I saw police lights flashing in my rear view mirror. But I had so much speed and momentum that I simply got off at the next exit. I quickly parked on a side street until the threat of arrest was gone, got back on the highway and enjoyed the rest of the party.
I was riding high. My social life was booming. There was no reason to look around, to the side or behind me. The road ahead was clear, easy and fun. As was Herricks Road, a street I drove on often. I approached the traffic light one afternoon while I cruised over to my friend Sam’s house.
But I needed to get into the left turning lane. I glanced at the rear view mirror right before that beautiful Mustang got crushed by an eighteen-wheeler that was not only going full speed but was also tucked away in my blindspot. The impact was so severe that the huge truck and my car were shot across to the right lane, where another eighteen-wheeler was also traveling at full speed and matched the damage on the right side of my car. My car became the meat in an eighteen-wheeler sandwich. I was so upset by the destruction of the car that made me cool that I didn’t appreciate that I was still alive. If I had turned left a fraction of a second sooner, it would have been the last turn I would have ever made.
All because I didn’t notice what was in my blind spot.
My friend didn’t see what was in his blind spot either until he was unemployed. I have a friend right now who has a major blind spot that he doesn’t see. He’s not interested in hearing about it.
And he’s not alone.
In the car, it’s called a blind spot. But in real life, that’s too kind of a term.
The destruction that has come from my “blind spots” are not the fault of the blind spots. They are the fault of my arrogance. My own unpreparedness. My own complacency.
What would it have taken for me to avoid that horrific car accident? A deeper glance around me. It could have been just a split second that would have caused me to gain more information, the ability to pause as well as the wisdom to wait an extra second to make a wiser decision.
It’s no different for my friend who lost his job. It wouldn’t have required much to take a deeper look around. To ask himself, “could I be the next one to lose my job?” Asking that question- and taking action on it would have put him in a much stronger position. He could have worked on that business of his, knowing it would be in better shape if that job loss did happen. He might have connected and networked better to line up a different job to handle the impact of an immediate job loss.
This entire scenario accelerated towards his blind spot- just as that eighteen-wheeler was towards mine. But a combination of arrogance, comfort and complacency allowed both of us to take a quick glance into the rear-view mirror but without the wisdom to respect our blind spots.
In the end, the worst and most confusing moments are when you are forced into picking up the pieces. Whether it’s the rubble of figuring out a job loss or retrieving the fender that was separated from your once beautiful car.
Having the experience to respect the blind spot will save us from future pain. That may come in the form of a mirror placed on the side of your car, or from a friend who sees something you don’t.
Respect the blind spot.
Have an AMAZING day!
Vincent
I’ll be back next week!
In the meantime, I love adding options that can be a help to you!
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