Don't Look Back, We're Not Going That Way

I’ve heard this line attributed to Will Rogers, but I have been unable to verify it as a fact. If he didn’t say it, he probably would be glad to take credit for saying it.

One of the advantages of maturing is the opportunity to look back and evaluate our experiences. I say opportunity because not everyone will do it, and others will begin, but quit because of what they may see.

When I look back, I see several decisions I made that looked right at the time, but turned out negatively. I can see many correct decisions also, but it’s the ones that embarrass me now that stand out under an honest review.

It is interesting to observe decisions, professionally and personally, where I went back and retried something after moving on. Fortunately, the results were mixed and not totally negative.

The common denominator in making the decisions was succumbing to make the decision in the vacuum of the present. Our culture has become one that emphasizes “Now” and gives little weight to past history and future consequences. I believe this is a phenomenon that has grown significantly since the 1960’s, and if left unchallenged will continue to grow and damage individuals, families and our nation.

We have so many resources to take advantage of in every decision. History, if we will study it, is filled with examples of virtually every experience we will encounter. Our family, friends and mentors would love us to seek their counsel, but I have overlooked that valued advice more times than I would like to admit.

The key to maximizing our decision success for today, and make decisions that will stand the test of time is to get out of the vacuum of the present, and consider past events and the impact on the future. To do that, it may be better to slow down our decision process in spite of the pressure to make decisions faster that is reinforced with cell phones, the Internet, and e-mail communications.

A humorous example of this principle happened to our family recently. We were driving from Austin to Dallas, and I had been convinced to take Interstate 35 against my better judgment. Traffic was extremely heavy on a road that has too many accidents, which block traffic for hours.

In Waco, I deliberated taking a secondary road that connected to Interstate 45 to avoid potential problems during the last 100 miles. Because traffic was moving at an acceptable speed, I decided to press on and passed the alternative road.

Within 4 miles, I could see traffic ahead stopped. Realizing I could take an eastbound road and connect with the road to Interstate 45, I decided to exit I-35. Laura and Elizabeth were resting in the back seat as we set out over a road that wasn’t on my map.

As I drove down the asphalt side road, it became more and more bumpy and was barely two lanes wide. My wife and daughter were awakened and startled to discover we weren’t on a recognizable road.

When I explained that we were taking a short cut, my wife demanded that I return to the familiar Interstate. My daughter screamed, “We’re all going to die!” I told them, “We’re not going back. I know that this road will lead to where we want to go and will save a lot of time.”

Shortly, the asphalt pavement ended and the road turned into gravel. My wife and daughter elevated their displeasure and demanded that I turn around. Again, I stated, “We’re not going back. Everything will be ok.”

For what seemed to be a much longer time than I’m sure it was, I pressed on and the cries to turn back became louder and more frequent. If anyone would have seen us, I’m sure they would have hurt themselves laughing at our behavior. The car was speeding down the road with the dust flying around and behind it. I was intent on driving until we found our destination, and my wife and daughter were screaming at the top of their lungs.

Several miles later, the road became asphalt again. We saw a lady in her front yard, and I stopped to verify my route in order to please my nervous passengers. “Just take a right at the stop sign ahead, and it will lead you to your highway in a few miles”, the lady assured us.

Since your reading this, you know that we found our way out of the wilderness and back to civilization. I asked my daughter if she didn’t enjoy the adventure, and she said that she didn’t like that much adventure. In spite of taking a different path, we achieved our goal.

One of my hero’s, Davy Crockett, said, “Be sure you’re right and then go ahead.” How I wish I could say that all of the decisions I have made were made in that sequence.

© 2006 Richard V. Battle