Break "Your Rules" Sometimes

Rigidity closes you off from unexpected inspiration

Rules are generally good. For example, rules like don’t lie, cheat, steal, or murder are generally good ones! Society needs rules to avoid devolving into a dystopian morass. It’s a good idea to follow the rules, most of the time.

That said, we all create arbitrary “rules” that should be broken from time to time. Breaking the less important personal “rules” we place on ourselves can open up our minds to new people, possibilities, and potential adventures. I broke one of my cardinal rules of flying on a flight to Tasmania recently.

Air travel is a situation ripe with both formal and informal rules. There’s no need to list the litany of formal rules we must obey. One of the informal rules I have on an airplane is to talk only briefly to my seat mate. I say hello, make a joke, and shut up before we’ve hit 10,000 feet. While I’m a talker and can chat up a rock, not everyone is.

Yet, on my flight to Hobart I broke this rule with Blair, my seat mate. Boy, I’m glad I did. I learned all about Blair’s career adventures and got a book recommendation that is helping a fictional book I’m writing.

My wife and I have two kids. These days, we’re normally split up on flights. She normally sits with one or both of our kids because they don’t want to separate from her. Often, that leaves me alone, as was the case with this flight.

I was sitting in my aisle seat when a slender man with a crew cut and a tattoo stopped next to me. He gave the usual loitering head lift with a half point to indicate he needed me to get up. He had the window seat. I let him in and said hello.

The crew completed boarding the rest of the passengers. The man and I ended up having a gap seat between us. I said a few things to my wife and daughters across the aisle giving away my foreign accent. Soon, we were taxiing to our launch point. The plane was only about two thirds of the way full.

As we lift off, the man introduced himself. He said his name is Blair. I told him mine. He asked if I was American. “You got me,” I said. I asked if it was the Chicago Bears hat I was wearing or the thick accent that gave me away. “Both,” he said with a chuckle.

We exchanged the typical pleasantries. Where you from? Why you going to Tassie? All that jazz. We passed 10,000 feet, the point at which I normally stop chatting and start reading. I asked him if he’d like more space, given that aisles in front of and behind us were both empty. He said, “Nah. I’m good.”

Then, he said, “I see that you’re reading Tim Winton. He’s classic Aussie.” I was reading Winton’s classic Cloudstreet. It’s a character driven novel about two families united in Western Australia following life altering tragedies. He told me I should read Breath next.

I asked him why he was heading to Tassie. He said to work on his boat. He is a sailor. He recently purchased a boat in Tasmania. It is cheaper to dock it there versus Melbourne, where he lives full time. Plus, the craftsmen he needs to restore it are better than on mainland Australia.

My normal domicile is in Cincinnati, OH. Given my normal Midwestern US habitat, I don’t know a lot of sailors. My ears perked up. I wanted to learn more about his story, how he got into sailing. Was he part of a sailing family who’d passed the skill down from generation to generation? I decided to forget my 10,000 foot conversation rule and engage.

For the next hour we discussed his background and mine. He told me that as a sailor he does two main things: teaches people to sail and transports boats. He teaches people to sale in Melbourne harbor. He transports people’s boats for hire all around the Asia Pacific region. Oftentimes he moves luxury vessels from Indonesia to Australia to Fiji or other epic voyages.

Blair also told me that he was not a natural born sailer. He doesn’t hail from a long line of mariners trained to conquer the seas. Rather, his first career was in the music industry. He’d been a musician when he was younger. That morphed into owning and operating a music production studio. Over the years, he’d started to find music production monotonous and knew a new path called. He sold his business and dove into sailing.

I asked him how he did it. His answer was simple: lessons and certifications. He first learned to sail, taking a variety of progressive more intensive classes. Then, he collected certifications. He didn’t list all the certifications he’d achieved. He figured getting certifications was the best way for him to not only learn but to also build the authority he’d need for his future in the sailing business, whatever it would be.

As we started our descent, I cooly asked him if he uses a sextant. A sextant is not some crazy device that makes bedroom adventures more enjoyable with your partner. Rather, it’s a tool used in ship and aircraft navigation. Sextants have been used for centuries. European explorers used them to determine their position in the seas as they pushed into new worlds. Yet, with modern technologies like GPS, it is less used today.

Blair was surprised and pleased by my question. He told me in fact he is using a sextant in navigation now. Even though it’s a technology of yesteryear, perfecting its use is making him a more skilled sailor. Plus, it’s giving him new ways to make life interesting when advanced sailing technologies have become the norm.

As the flight landed, we exchanged contact information. It was obvious we both enjoyed the conversation and learning more about each other.

Talking to anyone on an airplane for an extended period of time takes the right set of circumstances. You likely need the exact environment I had: a less than full flight that’s under two hours and without televisions. Plus, you need someone to engage willingly.

For me, meeting Blair and hearing his story was a simple example of how we all can navigate life and career. If you want to try something new and carve a new path, then take steps like getting certified in a new career space. If you want to try new things in a profession you love, explore various technologies and tools.

Remember, interesting stories are everywhere. Sometimes it just takes getting out of your comfort zone or breaking a personal, arbitrary rule for you to find them.

Thanks for reading!

Paul G. Fisher