START YOUR ENGINES

Every journey has to start somewhere. For most people taking up a spiritualpractice, the starting point is a personal crisis of some kind. It doesn't haveto be something dramatic. We're simply unhappy with the way things are and wewant to try a different way of living. So we find a new job, a new girlfriend,move to another city. Or we look into a spiritual practice.

If things are going well and we're happy with our lives, we probably won't wantto change anything.

It was like that for me. I'd quit drinking, cut way back on some other things. Ithought my life would change for the better, and in some ways it did, but I justfelt empty. Getting rid of bad habits wasn't enough for me. I had to replacethem with something better. So I signed up for an adult education course:Introduction to Zen Buddhism. It could have been Santeria or Channeling YourInner Space Alien. I didn't put a lot of research into it. I got lucky. A verynice woman taught the course at her suburban home, with meditation practice inher basement zendo. She was a great teacher, and the class immediately becamethe high point of my week. It was a perfect way to get started.

Buddhist history is filled with stories of Zen masters who forced theirdisciples to wait by the gates of the temple for years to show theirdetermination before they could begin practice. One disciple is said to have cutoff his arm and presented it to the master to gain admission. They don't do thatnow. In major cities, people can walk into a Zen center, get some basicinstruction, and start attending functions. Usually there's not much training.Maybe a brief lecture, some instructions on zazen, the Zen style of meditation.Then the newcomers join the activities and figure it out as they go along.Outside the cities, people with an interest in Zen might form their own zendoand help each other to learn. Others just buy a few books and a cushion to siton and start out on their own. In the end, it doesn't really matter. You get outof it what you put in. No matter where you start, it's up to you to make itwork.

It's the same with cabdriving. You're on your own, and you can do what you want.You can sit at the airport and wait for the money to roll in, and when itdoesn't you can blame the company for not training you well enough. Then you cangive up. But if you make the effort, it can work out well for you even withoutany real training. And you might have a good time doing it. It's not how youstart—it's how you proceed.

Cabdrivers usually start out when things are going wrong. Most of them show upat the cab company as a last resort after other things have fallen through. Noone writes cabdriving in their high school yearbook next to career path. Theyjust need a job, any job, to see them through until something better comesalong.

That was how I started. I'd worked for an environmental organization for anumber of years only to find myself unemployed, broke, and without any realprospects. I knew I'd face some very hard times if I didn't come up withsomething fast. There was an ad in the paper. I didn't really put a lot ofresearch into it. I went in. I got lucky. Two days later, I was a trainee.That's right, a cabdriver trainee. I was so proud.

The company training program goes on for hours, but most of it is just commonsense. The cab business is pretty simple. People get in the cab, tell you wherethey're going. You drive them there, they pay what the meter says (plus a nicetip), and get out. Then it starts all over again. There's a dispatcher on theradio, putting out calls using a simple set of procedures. You can take calls,letting the calls lead you around. You can sit in cabstands at hotels andrestaurants or in a long line at the airport. You can cruise around downtown,see what happens there. You can work the late-night business, covering the clubsdowntown. And you can watch the veteran drivers, see how they do things, learnwhat you can from them.

In Austin, some drivers own their own cabs and pay a weekly fee to one of thecompanies to cover insurance, permits, and dispatch service. Other drivers leasetheir cabs. Between the payments and the cost of gas, it can cost a driver morethan a hundred dollars a day to stay on the road. That's not easy to make up. Alot of drivers wind up falling behind on their payments and find themselves outof the business. You have to stay focused, and you have to put in the hours. Thecompany training program doesn't really dwell on any of this. If the rookiedrivers knew what was coming, they'd probably make a run for it while theycould.

Something good about the cab industry: since the drivers are paying the company,rather than the other way around, it's fairly hard to get fired. It happens, butyou have to really mess up. In one of the Austin cabdriving legends, a drivermanaged to run over a passenger who'd gotten out of his cab. Then he drove away.He got fired, but it took the company a week to make the decision.

That story may or may not be true. No one really knows. There are a lot ofstories around, and some of them must be true. The streets are paved with urbanlegends. But the point is, if you've driven a cab, you know: it could happen.It's a pretty strange business.

But then, most businesses are pretty strange. Once you get inside and see whatreally goes on, you wonder how anything useful ever gets done. Everywhere I'veworked I've seen colossal screw-ups, gross incompetence, and outright larceny.Everyone laughs about it over an after-work beer, and nothing ever seems toreally change. If you've ever had a job, you know: the working world is acircus. And the clowns are running the show.

Here's another cabdriving story: One night a driver got a package delivery fromthe airport going to a hospital. It was a cooler, like you'd use for beer. Itwas kind of a long drive, and he was tired, so he stopped off at home, figuringhe'd get some sleep and finish the trip in the morning. After all, it was just apackage. You guessed it. There was an organ in the cooler. The cab company hadto send another driver to wake him up, collect the cooler, and bring it to thehospital. This sounds crazy, but I'm pretty sure this one...