A couple of days ago a strange thing occurred to me whilst I was driving. Thinking about it now feels disconcerting. I was driving to a site and I was thinking about how I could resolve a work problem. The route I drove involves passing through traffic light intersections, pedestrian crossings, etc. All of sudden I was 'jolted' back to present time for want of an expression and I could not remember the past few miles / minutes of the journey. I can't remember stopping at traffic lights, yielding at intersections etc. Obviously I must have drove safely as I would have had an accident. Has this ever happened to you?
No, but I’ve heard many long time drivers say it. It seems pretty common. You’re simply going into auto-pilot and your brain is not ‘recording’ your actions or the things around you, especially so if you’re concentrating on something specific, as you were. Then something trips your brain back to the real world and you experience what you’ve described here. Yes, you’ll stop at red lights and give way at junctions, but this is because driving has become like breathing for you. You no longer have to ‘think’ what you’re doing. It’s all done unconsciously.
I've had sort of the opposite experience, driving across the deserts of Nevada and Utah, when the highway goes on and on, straight and flat for what seems forever and I can't recall the passage of the miles. But I didn't have the luxury of being sure I stopped for lights, etc., because there weren't any,
Constantly. My driving pattern is a lopsided octagon between my house, main office, and six restaurants. There is an optimal path between each, a three point optimal path, a four point, etc. There are sub optimals for each to dodge construction, road closures, parades (lots of those in the summer), and more. With the exception of an outlier in another town, no two points are more than 3 miles apart. And there are several pairings within 2500 ft. But there's the crow flying and downtown gridlock, which leads to some crazy circumvention. So, yeah, autopilot is understatement. I'll be halfway through the front door of one restaurant before I realize I've stopped driving. And at least once a week I'll stop dead in a dining room and be like, wait, which restaurant is this and why am I here. I've been known to turn on my heels and walk out the door without saying a word.
Well, maybe not the opposite. I was just thinking that in my desert experience there was nothing to pay attention to anyway. . . . . Oh well, I guess it was the same, only different in detail.
I experienced something similar: coming home one night on the motorway. I remember "jolting" back to the present time and all I could see in front of me was a white Ford: head on. I thought of my children, and screamed, and prayed. And as the impact approached, everything slowed right down again. It seemed to take a few seconds. It was like my spirit made me open my car door, and walk round the Ford, and across the services' car park, to get some breakfast.
See this word. Immediately think of Elton John—"In a garage by the motorway" (garage being pronounced in that English manner). I guess a motorway is where one goes motoring. In their motorcar. Perhaps hauling a motorboat? Suddenly the word motor has no meaning whatsoever.
I have little memory of what I do day to day. When I drive a vehicle, I'm almost always on "auto-pilot".
Brain is super good at skipping the boring parts. Unfortunately this is how oopsies happen. Did you just fall asleep?
Yes -- more than twice. I believe there's a proper psychological name for when that happens, but I can't think of it.
As my Cuban-American history of architecture professor used to say (cue heavy Cuban accent), "So all thee time eez thee berry same thing, essept eez deeferent."
Especially since, until the recent advent of electric cars, automobiles didn't have motors, they had engines. Most of them still have engines.
When I go to my main job, I take the bus to the central city station, then change to a different bus to work. When I go to my part-time gig, I take the bus to the central city station, then change to a train. More than once I've caught myself heading for the wrong secondary transport.
Thanks to a medication I have long since quit taking, I have fallen asleep while driving. Fortune favored me and woke me with my hand falling into my lap from the steering wheel before I drove off the road. That was much different from spacing out the miles of a familiar drive and arriving in place with body and soul intact. My friendly neighborhood neurologist once explained autopilot driving to me in nice, round layman's terms that I could grasp. I just wandered around the internet a bit looking for a version of what he told me so I can share it without trying to reiterate what he told me. Couldn't find exactly what I wanted, but the following may explain a little: https://healthfully.com/parts-of-the-brain-used-while-driving-4113343.html
The human brain is a very complex, highly functional, but fundamentally lazy organ. The more it can do on “autopilot”, the better it performs. Driving is a great example – think back to learning to drive when you had to remember which was the clutch, which was the brake, which was the accelerator, remember which one to push to function, how to change gear, how to judge that the screaming engine meant that it was time to change gear, etc. etc. etc. After a few goes you don’t have to think about it – the brain has learned and just does it. It’s the same as playing an instrument – a talented guitarist isn’t thinking right, third finger on the third fret of the bottom string, second finger on the second fret of the second string, first ginger on the third fret of the third string… they are just thinking “d” – if at all. The great news about the human brain is that it can step out of that mode in a flash. Did you notice the word ginger? It jumps out, even though we’re expecting to read “finger”. Same with driving – as long as things are normal we just truck along, but as soon as another driver jumps the lights, an animal or a child runs out, or the vehicle starts making a funny noise or vibration, we step straight into dealing with the consequences (although we will almost certainly have reacted without time to think about our reaction!) The interesting thing, this being a writing forum, is whether this mastery applies to our craft. For sure it would have been very difficult to type this reply if I had to stop and consider how to spell each and every word; the fingers just dance around the keyboard and type; but what of plot development, characterisation, natural dialogue…? Do we become better writers the more we write, or do we become formulaic?
No, because I don't play any musical instruments so I skipped that bit until I saw the above question
The unconscious can handle just about anything, but it does tend to be formulaic. It does what it's been programmed to do, so the point is to program it well. The best trick of all is to use both, by having memorized ways of writing. Think your way through some parts and let the unconscious breeze through others. It's far more graceful.
I guess the trick is mastery of the keyboard (or pen) which gives our voice, but to let the conscious and creative parts of the old noggin control the plot and story.
The trick is to learn methods and practice. This is how we learned to walk and talk. Drill and practice, until it becomes internalized. Then the unconscious takes over and can do it far more fluidly than the plodding conscious mind can ever manage. I do lots of freewriting to get the flow going. Not total gibberish generation (as it's usually done), but something halfway between that and consciously plotted writing. Try to find the sweet spot midway between, you can move either way from there when needed. At times you want to consciously control it, but sometimes you let go. It's how we do anything we've practiced enough to get really good at. Some people lean really hard into full conscious control, and some the other way. I find it best to be able to move fluidly one way or the other. If you've ever tried to take full conscious control over walkiing for instance, thinking about when to move each foot and how to swing your arms, you get really clumsy. This is what happens when you get embarrased and highly self-conscious. It's the reason people drill so much in martial arts—you want to internalize the movements so the 'body' works automatiically. When people say their hands or body know what they're doing, it's really the unconscious. It's always there, always on (except during the deepest levels of sleep) and always ready to give an assist when you let it. We already do it all the time, when we're doing just about anything, but we often don't realize it. The unconscious is the silent partner that never gets any credit.
