In most cases, the "shortcut philosophy" will not get you to your destination faster—if it gets you there at all.
It seems that all of us in Malibu have a "love-hate relationship" with our Pacific Coast Highway. We can't get anywhere without it, and in that way we depend on it for most of our needs. But then there's the traffic. Those countless, stressful hours spent, wasted, staring at the cars before us wondering when it will end.
Yes, driving on PCH on a Sunday afternoon can prove to be very stressful for those who are not accustomed to long stretches of bumper-to-bumper traffic. Every once in a while, there seems to be an agitated driver who is "stuck" in a state of pain and disbelief because of the length of time it could take to drive one mile.
Some of us are aware of certain shortcuts that allow us to save a few seconds—maybe even a minute or two—of driving time, but that's about it. It is a fact of daily life for the Malibu community, due to the nature of PCH and the lack of side streets.
The other day, while sitting in traffic behind a Range Rover, I noticed the guy behind the wheel progressively loosing his cool. Hoping to get ahead, he disappeared into the next lane, only to reappear in my rear view mirror just a few minutes later. And then again, he moved to the second lane, trying to move faster, only this time with a bit more obvious frustration. I watched this process repeat itself about five times until we reached the I-10 Freeway.
In keeping with my teacher's guidance, this incident reminded me of an important Talmudic lesson:
Rabbi Yehoshua ben Chananiah said, "Once a child got the better of me! When I was traveling, I met this child at the crossroad. I asked him, 'Which way to the city?' He replied, 'This way is shorter and long, and this way is longer and short.' I took the 'shorter and long' way. I soon reached the city, but found my approach obstructed by gardens and orchards. So I retraced my steps and said to the child, 'My son, did you not tell me that this is the shorter way?' The child answered, 'Did I not tell you that it is also long?'" (The Talmud, Eruvin 53b)
We are all driven by our personal, inner philosophy in life. Many people may not think of it as a philosophy, but because we are human, we most likely have an opinion. And if you have an opinion, you most likely formed that somewhere, sometime, in the past. I like to refer to it as "the philosophy we live by."
In the above story, the Talmud reminds us that as humans, in our initial philosophy, we are naturally more receptive to the one that sounds to be the path of least resistance. Why? Well, we all love a good shortcut.
When you stop and think about it, most of the world's economy is based on shortcuts. Whether it be the fastest car, plane or computer, a 30-day fix for dieters, fast food, the lottery or all the gimmicks that start with "the fastest way to becoming..." These shortcut methods appeal to our desire to get the prize without the effort.
Perhaps the most common problem with the shortcut is that as a philosophy it just does not work. One cannot expect a deep wound to be healed by a quick fix. When was the last time we heard a material success "rags to riches" story that began with winning the lottery? While this may be an important lesson for us all, it is vital when it comes to education. The opportunities for shortcuts are popping up so rapidly, it is hard to keep up.
Today, because of shortcuts, we no longer know the telephone numbers or addresses of our closest friends. We don't really need to know how to spell as we did once upon a time, and we have come to live in a "cut and paste" world. Perhaps, one can argue when it comes to certain things, like a telephone number or an address in our cellphones, thank G-d for shortcuts. But then there are those issues in life where the shortcut philosophy is the beginning of an unhealthy journey.
So how does one stay far away from becoming victim to the shortcut philosophy?
A fundamental teaching from the Torah is that the deed, i.e. the action, is the most important. "Better a single act than a thousand sighs." (Hayom Yom)
When we are determined to discover the proper channel, and with great resolve, we take the action steps of the journey, we are assured that, although the path may at first seem to be painstaking and laborious, ultimately, it will be the quickest path that gets us to our desired goal—and ultimately, the soonest.
And to my friend in the Range Rover, thank you for the lesson!