Imagine you are in
the driver's seat of a car.
You have been sitting there so long
that you have forgotten
that it is the seat of a car,
forgotten how to get out of the seat,
forgotten the existence of your own legs,
indeed forgotten that you are a being at all
separate from the car.
You control the car with skill and precision,
driving it wherever you wish to go,
manipulating the headlights
and the windshield wipers
and the stereo
and the air conditioning,
and you pronounce yourself a great master.
But there are paths you cannot travel,
because there are no roads to them,
and you long to run through the forest,
or swim in the river,
or climb the high mountains.
A line of prophets who have come before you
tell you that the secret to these forbidden mysteries
is an ancient and terrible skill
called GETTING OUT OF THE CAR,
and you resolve to learn this skill.
You try every button on the dashboard,
but none of them is the button
for GETTING OUT OF THE CAR.
You drive all of the
highways and byways of the earth,
but you cannot reach
GETTING OUT OF THE CAR,
for it is not a place on a highway.
The prophets tell you
GETTING OUT OF THE CAR
is something fundamentally different
than anything you have done thus far,
but to you this means ever sillier extremities:
driving backwards,
driving with the headlights on in the glare of noon,
driving into ditches on purpose,
but none of these reveal the secret
of GETTING OUT OF THE CAR.
The prophets tell you it is easy;
indeed,
it is the easiest thing you have ever done.
You have traveled the Pan-American Highway
from the boreal pole to the Darien Gap,
you have crossed Route 66 in the dead heat of summer,
you have outrun cop cars at 160 mph and survived,
and GETTING OUT OF THE CAR
is easier than any of them,
the easiest thing you can imagine,
closer to you than the veins in your head,
but still the secret is obscure to you.
And finally you drive to the top of the highest peak
and you find a sage,
and you ask him what series of buttons on the dashboard you have to press
to get out of the car.
And he tells you that it's not about pressing buttons on the dashboard
and you just need to
GET OUT OF THE CAR.
And you say okay, fine,
but what series of buttons
will lead to you getting out of the car,
and he says no,
really,
you need to stop thinking about dashboard buttons
and GET OUT OF THE CAR.
And you tell him maybe if the sage
helps you change your oil
or rotates your tires
or something
then it will improve your driving
to the point where getting out of the car
will be a cinch after that,
and he tells you it has nothing to do
with how rotated your tires are
and you just need to
GET OUT OF THE CAR,
and so you call him a moron and drive away.