In spite of our checklist-ridden world with quality assured processes and frequent audits, when in the field it is surprising how often we must trust to instinct to recognize and dodge past a hazard. We work very hard to identify all the potholes we can, but you will not likely be able to anticipate every variable or possible outcome, and if you could, your head would be full to overflowing and you would have to jettison childhood memories to make room for all the new information.
To fill that knowledge gap we often rely on the black art called Instinct.
My father once witnessed instinct at play some years ago while travelling through the international airport in Ottawa. Now, Dad is definitely a product of Newfoundland culture. For those of you unfamiliar with our island, it has a very distinct way about it — complete with a language and accent only understood by the most discerning ear. We boast a finely-tuned sense of humor and an occasional reliance on instinct that can both get you into and out of trouble.
We have the reputation of not being a particularly sophisticated lot, but some of us, some very few of us, can be dressed up and set to mingle with Come From Aways on their home ranges. (Come From Aways, or CFAs, are unlettered heathens from the Mainland.) Such was the case when Dad was in Ottawa for meetings with a federal department. (Not the Department of Corrections, I should add.) He had donned his business suit and with raglan, briefcase and fedora to complete the ensemble, struck the very image of a continental business person. Mainlanders with whom he came in contact would be none the wiser — until he opened his mouth and spoke.
Anyway, back to the airport. Dad was seated in one of the lounge areas waiting for his flight when he caught a glimpse of an older gentleman shuffling down the hallway. The gentleman appeared confused, and his attire consisted of a pair of brown polyester pants, a faded green sports coat, scuffed shoes and a set of Newfoundlander’s match luggage — that is to say a “Sobeys” grocery bag in one hand and a “Dominion” grocery bag in the other. He clung to a crumpled plane ticket and was scanning the area in complete bewilderment. He had a furrowed brow as he looked up at the flight information screens and clearly, he did not understand any of it. He then did a 360-degree scan of the area looking for something — anything — familiar that he could rally to. Obviously he was from rural Newfoundland and completely out of his element.
Dad continued to observe and knew at some point he would have to intervene to help the poor guy, but partway through one of the gentleman’s 360-degree scans, he noticed Dad and then began to stare. The poor soul locked on and moved towards him. He stopped a couple of feet away and sized up Dad’s suit and the briefcase. He then asked, “Skipper, is you goin’ ‘ome?” Dad was more than a little taken aback at being confronted by this stranger but replied, “Well, yes.” The gentleman responded, “Good! Then I’ll follow you.”
To this day, Dad does not know what had tipped this total stranger to Dad’s origin or his destination. Trying to analyze the event, he would later wonder if it was “something in my attire that gave me away, or did I just smell funny?” We will never know. Both parties made it back to “The Rock” and all was well.
When there is so much going on around us, it is easy to get overwhelmed and difficult to stay out in front of our situation. Developing an instinct towards caution is a good way to make up for the lack of hard information. It might even help to get you home.
Have a safe summer.