The Happiest Place on Earth
4 a.m. alarm.
On the road by five.
Motel by seven.
(And side note: chanting the Hanuman Chalisa with your innkeeper may or may not get you free parking.... Guess what happened for us?!)
Security cleared by 7:40.
Ready for rope drop.
Yes — this is how our family approaches Disneyland.
Over the last few years I’ve gone there more times than I had in the previous five decades.
For Sarah and our daughters, Disneyland became more than a theme park. It became a ritual — a refuge during years of stress and uncertainty. A happy place in the truest sense.
And like many family pilgrimages, it arrives with anticipation, excitement, occasional tears, spilled drinks, forgotten items, dramatic declarations…
…and, thanks to Sarah, a car packed for every conceivable emergency.
Perfect.
There is something fascinating about being in a place with 50,000 people gathered around a shared purpose — to experience wonder, make memories, and be together.
There can be magic in a crowd.
I’ve always loved that.
I like talking to strangers.
Making people laugh in line.
Being a little silly.
And where better than Disneyland?
Fantasy. Music. Story. Wonder.
And yet…
look around.
So many people are on their phones.
Pulled away from the living moment.
(Yes, I know the park runs on the phone now.)
But even so…
there is so much opportunity there to practice ease, joy… presence.
Because we often say life is about the journey, not the destination.
Disneyland may be one of the best teachers of that.
We stand in line 40, 50, sometimes 70 minutes…
for a ride that lasts five.
And while waiting for the “main event,”
we can miss the whole journey.
The play.
The people.
The possibility.
And then…
something happened - I'm still in awe.
We were in one of those long lines and I started doing what I do — talking with the people behind us.
Where are you from?
What brings you here?
Salt Lake City.
I said,
“I spent time in Utah about 25 years ago… I think Orem.”
They knew Orem.
And I said,
“I met a man there named Paul Bunker. He helped guide me through two brutal boot camps where I earned my MCSE and CCNP certifications — not small things in those days.”
Very few people walked out with both.
Paul believed in me.
He showed me something I’ve carried ever since:
It’s not what you know.
It’s how you apply it.
That shaped my career.
Then one young woman in the group went completely still.
Jaw slack.
Eyes wide.
And said:
“Paul Bunker is my father-in-law.”
What?
Out of 50,000 people.
Hundreds of lines.
Thousands of permutations.
And somehow… this.
And I thought—
This is what happens when you engage the journey.
When you stop waiting for life to begin when the ride starts…
…and realize it already has.
And then we all realized
what line we were standing in.
Can you guess?
It's a Small World.
Of course.
We laughed.
Because what else do you do when life tells a joke that perfect?
It is a small world.
Smaller than we think.
More connected than we realize.
There may be many ways to say,
“I’m different from you.”
But I believe there are far more ways we belong to one another.
As the song says:
There is just one moon and one golden sun
And a smile means friendship to everyone
There's so much that we share, that it's time we're aware
It's a Small World After All
And maybe Paul’s lesson reaches beyond technology.
It’s not what we know about connection…
it’s how we apply it.
Do we smile?
Do we ask?
Do we notice?
Do we engage the line?
Because maybe that’s where the practice lives.
And maybe that’s where ROAR lives too:
Recognize what is here.
Notice the trigger, the story, the sensation.
Observe
Witness it without immediately becoming it.
Allow
Make room for what is present rather than resist it.
Respond (or Realign)
Choose the next wise action instead of reacting from pattern.
And maybe that’s how the world gets smaller.
And love gets bigger.
One conversation.
One smile.
One unexpected connection at a time.
It’s a small world after all.
ROAR with Love,
Danny
The Emotional Driver
“Emotion Is the Note. You Are the Song.”
