I used to work at a geothermal power plant. The facility, with its immense pumps, turbines, generators, cooling towers, and tanks the size of mansions, converted energy from hot, high-pressure underground water to electricity. It was a safe place to work until one of thousands of pieces of equipment erupted and sprayed 230 Fahrenheit, corrosive, acidic, sticky brine in all directions. If you were in the area when it happened, you would have been lucky if your hospital stay had only been for a few days. Anyone caught outside the air-conditioned control room without wearing safety glasses, steel-toed shoes, and a hardhat was fired. That was thirty years ago. Now, I work in a safer environment. But to this day, when I walk into one of the company's machine shops, I experience a pinch to the ribs and reach up to feel my uncovered head. I must then remind myself that hard hats are not required in this area. I cannot seem to overcome the jab of a standard ingrained in me so many years ago. This is how standards are supposed to work. When breaking them, you experience a mental and emotional shot to the gut, a metaphorical fingernail-scrape-against-chalkboard.
The pickup truck
My first professional position after college was being the Plant Engineer of a geothermal power plant north of El Centro, California. It was an environment of piping, metal, hissing steam, pumps the size of automobiles, and large, ear-piercing turbine generators.
I was standing with a group of crewmen trying to maneuver a tractor around some equipment when one of the foremen yelled at me, “Jeff, move that pickup truck out of the way.”
Being new on the job and wanting to demonstrate that I’m as capable as anyone else, I got in the truck and moved the vehicle as directed.
While moving it, a voice in my head screamed, “First, you must find out if it’s a manual or automatic transmission.” But, instead of making that determination, I continued to operate the truck until I had moved it to an appropriate place.
Once that was done, I looked down at the pedals. It was a manual transmission.
I was able to function properly without thinking because I had so much experience driving a manual transmission.
When the time came to perform in an unfamiliar setting,
I acted without having to think or debate.
I acted automatically.
Your own standards
You must set your standards. If you do not, who shall make your quick-reaction decisions when faced with threat, disappointment, or temptation? Your boss at work? Your friends? The world?
On rare occasions when I am not seat-belted in a moving vehicle, I feel uneasy. This is as it should be.
Most people feel queasy when standing close to the edge of a tall cliff. This is a good thing. My advice is not to overcome that fear unless you’re a high-power line repairman or helicopter airlift rescuer. People in those professions have a great respect for heights and keep an armful of safety practices in place at all times.
The Doberman Pinscher
For an extended period of time in my younger days, I went from house to house, talking with people. We had heard stories about people attacked by dogs, so I developed a plan to execute in case I were confronted with a large animal with jagged teeth. I decided that when attacked, I would hold my notebooks in front of me with both hands as if they were a sword. This would put distance between me and my threat. I rehearsed this scenario in my mind hundreds of times.
Then, one day, it happened. I opened the homeowner’s front gate and approached his front door. From around the corner of the house galloped a Doberman Pinscher: snarling teeth, slobber, and hysterical anger. I backed to the gate, keeping my books in front of me. The dog’s jaws lunged left and right but could not get around my notebook. The homeowner came out his front door and swore at me for upsetting his dog.
But, I was untouched.
Ignoring standards
I am grateful for my health and wish to respect the physical and emotional blessings I've received. Below are three examples in my life when I was particularly unwise and could have been injured permanently or killed. These stories emphasize what can happen when we disregard the protections in our lives.
Jumping over a railing
When I was nine, my mother took me hiking to the top of Angels Landing in Utah’s Zion National Park. Angels Landing is a tall, narrow promontory of land with 1,500-foot vertical drops on both sides of the trail. Signs along the way warn hikers of fatal falls from cliffs and alert those afraid of heights.
My mother was terrified on the hike because I was so fearless.
I did not tell my mother the following story until years later.
While on a break atop the vertical cliffs, I noticed on the other side of a railing a strange rock face behind some trees. I had never seen such a texture. I climbed over the railing and approached the rock wall, intrigued by its patterns. That was when I realized I wasn’t looking at a boulder but the vertical walls on the other side of the canyon a half-mile away. I had walked to the edge of a thousand-foot drop.
That experience terrified me. I returned and climbed back over the railing before anyone noticed.
Then there was that fence
A few years later, I was playing hide-and-seek with some of my friends in the Old Town area of San Diego. The wooded park was up on a hill near an old Spanish mission. I was running as fast as I could to find a spot to hide when I jumped over a fence. I was about to leap over the bushes on the other side when I felt that I should stop. That was when I realized that on the other side of those bushes was a forty-foot drop onto a highway just under the cliff. Had I not stopped, I would have fallen into traffic from above.
I hope you understand that fences and railings are standards we should not cross.
Watching solar eclipse through binoculars
I wasn’t much older when I learned that on a certain day, there would be a partial solar eclipse. I had a good pair of binoculars at the time. My mother was into the old style of photography that involved materials called film and negatives. When you picked up your developed pictures from the photography store, you were also given the negatives so you could make copies of them later.
Wanting to see the solar eclipse through the binoculars, I gathered a stack of my mother’s film negatives (without asking her) and taped layers of them over one of the two large lenses of my binoculars. I was careful enough to look at the partial eclipse only through the protected side of the binoculars.
As I gazed in wonder, I felt a sharp, burning sting on my cheek. The burn was caused by the uncovered half of the binoculars that focused the sun’s light onto my cheek.
What if I had tried to look at the partial solar eclipse through those binoculars without the protection of those negatives?
I have yet to tell my mother this story. Shh, it's our secret.
Grand Canyon
You haven't lived until you've seen the Grand Canyon, and you haven't fully lived until you've hiked to the bottom. It is a humbling experience in more ways than one!
About twelve people die every year in the Grand Canyon from falls, heat stroke, or other causes. It was announced this week that another person in the Grand Canyon fell off one of the cliffs and died. The "Grand Canyon official" announcing over the radio said, and I quote, "It is important that you say on or near the trails." I heard this on my drive to work and almost crashed my car. Or near? "Or near" in that canyon is death. Many trails run along cliffs. I hope the official was given a week off without pay to think about his job.
Whale of a splash
Holding high standards won't free you from travails and afflictions. But, I promise you they'll be minimized compared to living foolishly.
One summer, we were on a family vacation in Orlando, Florida. Maybe I deserved what came to me at SeaWorld because of some strange twist of Karma.
It was late July, so it was sweltering and humid under the sun as we walked all day on hot pavement. Eventually, we made it to the huge Shamu amphitheater. The first few rows of seating to the water were guarded by signs saying,
Warning:
You WILL get wet!
That was what I wanted the most. But alas, my family said, "No, Dad, we can't sit this close. We'll get drenched."
"That's the point!" I pleaded. "We want to be splashed by Shamu! Aren't you sweaty and hot? And besides, we'll get to know Shamu better."
No amount of persuasion worked on them, so we sat among the boring people several rows behind the danger zone.
All went well with the show until they instructed Shamu to make a series of high jumps to make the biggest splashes possible.
The photograph below, which doesn't look like much, is the last photo my camera ever took.
This story exemplifies when I met the standard and still wasn't entirely protected. Or, Shamu was particularly energetic that day.
But, I got splashed, and that's what I wanted the most.
Ten minutes to live
How would you like to pilot your own airplane? After reading the following, you may think twice before signing up for the next Ground School class.
One of the leading causes of light aircraft crashes is the combination of the following two conditions:
Loss of instrumentation--the dashboard gauges that show the altitude and orientation of the aircraft relative to the ground, and,
Loss of visibility--when you're inside a cloud or fog or when it's dark outside (no moon) and you can't see the horizon.
When such occurs, and you can't fix either condition, you'll be dead in ten minutes. That is how long it takes for the plane to hit the ground under those conditions.
The condition happens more often than you think:
Pilot is flying along happily.
Instrumentation suddenly goes out 1) when the aircraft is either in a cloud, or 2) beneath the plane is overcast in all directions as far as the pilot can see. The plane can't stay up there forever.
At that point, the pilot issues a "Mayday" over the radio.
Most people don't realize that when a plane is flying slightly up or slightly down, it feels exactly the same as when it's flying level. When a plane is in a slight spiral but otherwise stable, it feels the same as when it is flying straight. Thus, if you've lost instrumentation and you can't see out of the cockpit windows, you're life is in imminent, mortal danger.
Without standards (dashboard gauges), our lives are threatened. We must do our best to establish and maintain the best standards for ourselves and those to whom we're responsible.
It is up to you
You must decide beforehand what to do when confronted with a threat or temptation. Rehearse your response repeatedly over a period of days and weeks. The more often, the better. You must do this or risk incurring hurt upon yourself, your career, and your family. Besides, who in their calm moments doesn’t mind imagining themselves victorious over adversity? If you do not decide ahead of time what your actions will be, then your actions will be decided by your circumstances and the world around you.
Whom do you trust more?
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