The Car Diaries: Part 2

Well, it's official now. The deed is done. I signed all of the papers and this little car is officially my child.

Joy. 

I can't even tell you how drastically the level of my anxiety has risen since I brought this little baby home and parked it in my driveway. But everyone I tell that to thinks I'm crazy, like buying a car should be some kind of joyous experience or something. And I guess it is, in some ways. And I guess I should let myself be happier about it. But this is a whole lot of responsibility! And I don't think I'm ready for this level of commitment!

But it doesn't matter because I signed the papers. And there is also the small matter of needing a car to drive to work everyday, because the beloved minivan (mentioned in this post) experienced major mechanical difficulties and was no longer able to complete the task.

I am so afraid I made the wrong decision! What if I bought myself a piece of crap car and now I will have to spend the rest of my life slaving to pay the debts of its medical bills? Ack! I can feel my heart beating irregularly already. (That's what my heart does when I am experiencing abnormally high levels of anxiety.)

Last night as I was driving home and imagining all of the things that could go wrong, and all of the upkeep I probably should start doing this very instant, and the tires I will need to buy (so much money for hunks of rubber!), and the new brakes and the oil changes, and yada yada yada, I had a thought occur to me. The thought was that I made a commitment to this car, and that commitment means that I will do what it takes to take care of it. Simple as that. I will bear the load. Willingly. I will drag it to mechanic shops. I will fill it with gas. I will wash the bird poop off of it with love and gratitude in my heart.

When you think about it, buying a car is a lot like marriage. It's a giant leap of faith. Some relationships have more problems than others. Some relationships break up before they can ever really get started. There's lots of maintenance required, and sometimes you wonder what you've gotten yourself into. But in the end, you made a commitment. You have a responsibility to each other. And that's enough to keep you going.

And, just like in marriage, it's important for me remember all of the good reasons that led me to make this decision. Because there are lots of them, but they can be easy to forget. It's all about remembering.

Remembering how cute we are together doesn't hurt either. ;)

*Disclaimer: I am not married.

The Car Diaries: Part 1

Recently I made a decision that has caused me great anxiety ever since I did it. I don't know if this means it was a bad decision, or just the type of decision I never thought I would make. It's the kind of decision that can't really be undone, which makes me even more nervous. Now before you go thinking I did something scandalous, let me just say what it was: I bought a car. That's what I did. And let's just say it is not as happy of a feeling as I imagined it would be.

I'm the type of person that really thinks things out before I decide to do anything. I guess I'm kind of a perfectionist when it comes to making decisions, which is pretty much the stupidest thing when you think about it. Because what decision will ever be perfect? The answer is no decision. There will always, always, ALWAYS be pros and cons. This fact does not please me. Somehow I still think sometimes that if I just think enough/pray enough/research enough/consult enough, then I will magically become exempt from this fact of life and experience the honor of making the perfect decision.

False. All of it. Even though I hate to admit it.

But, sometimes, I rebel against myself. The crazy man inside my brain decides to revolt against the careful man who has been working so deliberately to do things just so and suddenly I just start doing things that the careful man thinks are absolutely insane. Let's explore some examples:

Exhibit A: Jumping off of a 40-foot cliff into a river. A RIVER. I didn't even know how deep it was. Getting a cantaloupe sized bruise on my thigh as my reward.

Exhibit B: Going off the trail and up a cliff while hiking, almost slipping, watching my life flash before my eyes, and then realizing that I just knocked a whole bunch of rocks down on a group of people and made some lady's leg bleed. I could have killed her!

Exhibit C: Whacking my brother on the head with a paddle while rafting with the family. Let's just say I was very upset.

It's oddly liberating in the beginning when you first start disregarding everything that the careful man is saying to you, but it never really lasts. There needs to be a balance. However, having said this, it's probably still a little bit good for me. Sometimes it's good to be overwhelmed with what it feels like to have made an undeniably stupid and ignorant mistake. It reminds you why you like making good decisions. Sometimes it feels refreshing to just do things and not think about it, to just make choices and not spend so much of life idling between options and never truly going anywhere.

Because even if the decision turns out to be a bad one, at least I did something. At least I took the shot.

Life isn't meant to be lived perfectly. For one, it's impossible, and for two, it would be intolerably boring because you wouldn't learn a thing. Sometimes you can murder life and all that's magic in it by dissecting it too thoroughly, by splitting it up into parts and judging some parts to be of greater value than others. But life is sacred, even in all its confusion. There is something beautiful in partaking of the madness as a whole.

And I'm trying not to forget that.

Magical tree I saw in England. If you hammer a coin in to its trunk, your wish will come true.