Driving My 2000 Honda is Part of My Self-Care — What’s Your “Honda?”
When my partner and I purchased the sparkling new green Honda Accord to celebrate my doctorate in 2000, I didn’t aspire to drive it for two decades-plus. Not until an unfortunate altercation with my garage door damaged my Honda’s bumper did I realize that my vintage Honda is more than transportation. It represents who I’ve turned out to be. And I like it!
Keeping Up Appearances is Expensive and Unnecessary
Philosophically, my Honda embodies my propensity for not caring much about “keeping up appearances.” Practically, my Honda represents attention to frugality. Financial self-care is often underrated and misunderstood. My partner and I garnered significant financial benefits from this Honda decision — many years of no car payment, lower insurance and taxes, and so forth. Also, although we have another newer car — which my partner drives for his commute and our road trips — we’ve not squandered time car-shopping. And the grandkids think it’s an ideal jalopy for “safari” adventures. I don’t worry about someone stealing my car or targeting me as a woman of means. Held together by political stickers, duct tape, and tenacity, I conjecture other drivers steer clear because this vehicle doesn’t have much to lose.
In keeping the Honda, my partner and I aren’t sacrificing anything, as much as we’re satisfying our priorities. We prioritize being able to afford global travel, home-making, having a financial cushion, and helping others. This congruence of values is an important aspect of self-care.
Both practically and philosophically, my Honda is “Good Enough.” I don’t enjoy driving; I have even less interest in automobiles than I do in sports. I just want a vehicle that’s fundamentally functional and relatively dependable. Without frills, my Honda serves its purpose. With necessary re-fills, it gets me where I want to go.
In self-care, we can get overwhelmed by expectations of perfection and enticed by the latest fads: Maybe this shiny new program will be the perfect stress cure. Maybe this miraculous app will fix my life. Certainly, updated resources and new discoveries will refine and improve one’s self-care. But, like my Honda, much of self-care is simply and steadfastly Good Enough.
“Bury me with my car,” sings Ben Sollee. I’m not attached to my Honda in quite that way. Mainly because I don’t want my bones nor my belongings to take up precious green space. But, I may have my good enough self-car(e) plan cremated with me.
Maintenance Matters
For now, I’m driving my newly-bumpered Honda. But, I’m not just driving it into the ground. From day one, I’ve invested in maintenance: Regular oil changes, requisite repairs, and so forth. The floor mats that came with the car, still retaining the logo and original (granted, faded) color, testify to routine cleaning. The lack of rust and (mostly) working parts attest to caring, practical attention over decades.
Self-care is done NOW, this moment, this hour, this day. It’s not something to be delayed until we can afford it — time and money-wise. And, I can attest cumulative effects of sustained self-care are incalculably beneficial. Undoubtedly, those cumulative effects require ongoing maintenance. The oftentimes mundane and sometimes challenging maintenance of self-care sustains us.
Driving along, we have bumps…or in my case “bumpers”…that give us pause and may even take us off the road. As part of a maintenance plan, I retained insurance that provided for the repairs costing a modest deductible. So, invest now. Even when it seems your self-care might have to be junked, maintenance over time will pay off.
What’s Your “Honda”?
Like all aspects of self-care, driving my 23-year-old Honda is a personal choice based on my values, preferences, and circumstances. If you enjoy vehicles, can afford the one you desire, and that brings pleasure, then, go for it! As consumerism threatens to commodify everything, we need to intentionally make choices about what we buy and what we buy into…including as it relates to our self-care.
I invite you to consider: What’s your “Honda?” What “vehicles” power your self-care? What drives you? (See what I did there? Wink!) What are your values and priorities? What do you want to maintain? What’s your ‘good enough’ self-care?
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— Reprinted with Permission of The New Social Worker
