Another’s Secret

He bore the name of the Prophet.

We had a little difficulty meeting. I was not in the place he expected me to be and the app-map did not have all the street names.

The dealership called him, a service meant to offset labor prices double what I usually pay. There was no charge for the recall, of course, but I understood that the mechanic would “inspect” my six year old vehicle and prescribe further work, which I would verify with my usual mechanic, or not.

“Are you buying a car?” Mohammad asked.

“No, just service.”

“Not something you could not do yourself?”

“A recall. But I don’t do much work myself anymore. I used to work on cars, but not anymore. I don’t understand them – too many computers.”

This seemed not to compute with this old Uber driver. “Not even changing the oil?  Or brakes?”

“I figure at 76 I can let someone else do that.”

“We are the same age, but I like to keep my hand in.”

“I understand. Keeping skills up is valuable.” I relayed my recent failure soldering. “It seems I completely forgot how.”

“Soldering? I could never do that.”

We chatted about the weather, as everyone seems to, then he got around to the inevitable “What do you do?” question. I skipped the part where I responded “retirement” and he responded, “but before?”

“I’m a writer.”

“Oh? What do you write?”

“Non-fiction mostly. I just self-published a career advice book for young consultants Traveling the Consulting Road. This didn’t seem to interest him. “I also publish some things from conversations I have with ordinary people I meet.”

“Oh? Like what?”

“Well, I often ask people, ‘What is the secret of life?’”

“Oh?’

“Yes, imagine a young person sits before you, asks for your life wisdom. What do you say?”

He seemed intrigued. He missed the next turn the GPS suggested.

“That seems such a simple question, but it is very deep.”

I smiled. Mohammad was thinking. This question always takes people by surprise. Most, not all, feel compelled to answer.

“I can only answer this from my faith. People say that Islam means peace, but that is not quite right. There is a kind of peace in it, but Islam means surrender.”

“I had no choice in my birth. I will have no choice in my death; it will come whenever. . . . But in between I have many choices, far too many choices. This is my test. That is the problem of a life. But if I make one choice, if I choose to surrender to the will of God, other choices get easier.”

“People will say ‘ How can I know the will of God?’ but they know – in here.“ He tapped his chest lightly. If ever they do not know what is the right thing to do, stop . . . listen. It seldom takes longer than three heartbeats. If my action helps me, but hurts another, that is not the will of God. If it helps another, and does not cost me dearly, what would stop me?”

I responded that Christians also talk about the Will of God, Buddhists about the eight-fold path and Taoists speak of about The Way.

“Faith is our connection to God, not any particular faith, but faith, and most of all. . . living it.”

We went on to talk about the nature of people (“99% good”), cars (“simpler is better”), food (“ a little that’s good is better than a lot”). And then, some forty minutes later, we said “nice talking with you,” and he dropped me at home.

I always learn something when I ask this question. I am not a religious person, but people often go to the Golden Rule or say that we shouldn’t be “hung up on materials things” or that “hate is toxic.” A few, like Mohammad I believe, are people who try to live their faith.

I will remember the gentle way he tapped his chest in reference to knowing the Will of God.

“They know – in here. And if not – stop . . . listen. It seldom takes longer than three heartbeats.”

I’ve been known to quote the late Andy Rooney, CBS “Sixty Minutes” curmudgeon, on religion: “I’d be more willing to accept religion, even if I didn’t believe it, which I don’t, if I thought it made people nicer to each other, but I don’t think it does.”

I further opine “too many wars have been fought in the name of a belief in God,” but then I think of someone who lives their faith, like the late Fred Rogers, PBS children’s TV creator, or perhaps this gentle Uber driver and I admire their certainty and the luminous path they describe.

Henceforth, I will endeavor to practice his three heartbeat rule. Will you?