Saturday, 4 July 2026

Zen and the art of motoring

Against the background of rampant intemperate fundamentalism, the appeals of Buddhism have always seemed to me to be especially attractive.  Unlike the hectoring of the holier-than-thou Christians or the jihad-crazed Muslims, Buddhists have been content to keep a low spiritual profile.  In fact, what might appear a fault - its almost total lack of proselytising zeal - is Buddhism's greatest strength.

And nowhere more so than behind the wheel of a motor.  So far as I can ascertain, the potential of Buddhism in this sphere has never been sufficiently explored.  Roman Catholics have their St Christopher, and possibly some more modern update, a latter-day holy mechanic; Jews, of course, maintain their direct dialogue with Yahweh, who doubtless gives the wheel a nudge from time to time; but for the rest of us, particularly those of a sceptical disposition, it has been hard to find a suitable deity or force at whose feet we can lay the awful responsibility of driving.

Buddhism may be the answer.  Consider the first four steps of the Eightfold Path.  Right Understanding: are you sure you know the aerodynamics of your car, and the full range of its handling capabilities?  Right Motive: it is not enough to care about getting from A to B; you must care deeply about the manner of your getting there.  This enables you to make the right decisions at every point along the journey, not just at the beginning.  Right Speech: this is about control.  It really is no good sounding off when a Jag-u-ar carves you up: allusions to the unusual layout of his face is unlikely to influence him much.  Remember there are two panes of glass and a Bruce Springsteen record between you and him. Finally, and most importantly, Right Action: whatever you do, do it right.

If these metaphysical distinctions are a little too fine to grasp, bear in mind the guiding principle of Buddhism: that desire is the root of all suffering, and that what we must seek is a snuffing out.  A practical example may help.

You are proceeding along at a healthy, Buddhist 40 mph in a built-up area.  Chanting your favourite mantra, you are happily oblivious of the fact that you are well over the speed limit.  You approach some traffic lights; you are conscious that they are about to change.  Do you (a) accelerate? (b) slow down? (c) sing the second verse of your mantra?  The answer is of course (a); however, it is vital that at this point you do not care whether you cross that light legally - the fact that you have accelerated is probably something deep to do with your karma.  Under no circumstances must you desire to cross the light; if your heart beat rises even a smidgen you condemn yourself to another couple of centuries of re-birth with the added risk of coming back as a tape-worm.

The risks may be great, but so are the rewards.  You will be able to ignore flash bastards in XR4i 4x4s, be totally unaware of parking restrictions, and care not a jot for one-way streets.  Of course, you will probably get done along the way; but remember, all this world, including that policeman, is mere illusion.

(21.12.86)

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Introduction

I published Glanglish , a collection of essays, back in 1990.  And I mean published in the traditional sense: it was a physical book – secon...