Source Time
Phoenix had finished a three-week canoeing stint at Tanglewood 4H Camp and was looking forward to getting home. He rode shotgun as I drove and Larissa stretched out in the back. Our enjoyable ride was abruptly interrupted by the unexpected engine alarm; we were overheating.
I pulled off the main route and called AAA and Larissa called a family member for a ride. I stayed when Larissa’s dad showed up bringing her and Phoenix to her mom’s house. Half an hour into the wait AAA called me back, and in a non apologetic manner, informed me that my reliable 45-minute wait just increased another 20 minutes. I didn’t let on, but I was not bothered by it.
My savior arrived, and I was a little surprised to see that is was a woman driving. Upon exiting the cab, it was evident that she was a kind and a troubled soul. She proved my guess about her nature was close by apologizing for my wait, but I knew it was triple-A that screwed up and not her. Within a few minutes, we were on the road.
As well as her personality, I liked her thoughtful approach when interacting with me about the condition of the car. Unlike her predecessors, she didn’t try to be a mechanic-on-the-fly. I get it; most car owners are oblivious to why their cars have suddenly stopped working and sometimes, or a rare occasion, an armchair diagnosis will solve the problem, but that has never been my experience. The last thing I want to do is start from scratch describing the events of the day leading up to and including the moment I called for help. Even more annoying, are those guys who won’t take direct eye contact and a blunt statement from me regarding the difference between towing the broken down car and being the mechanic I suggested going to. This drivers sensibility was directly related to her being a woman and not needing to show off. Having avoided the subsequent dead silence of the off-offended driver, we began a fruitful conversation.
Her life needed to change, a complete overhaul, as it were. It seemed to me that she was on her last leg, but the degree of her desperation was a deep undercurrent, a condition she had tried to adapt to but no matter how hard she tried things were getting worse and not better. Although I was tired from the day, from the heat, my energy returned while we talked. She spoke of her unmanageable thirteen-year-old and depressed husband, her career as a tow truck drive and her desire to do something else with her life. I listened, and I was moved to respond.
In a gentle and confident voice, I acknowledge my appreciation of her recognizing the need for change. I believe that nature or evolution doesn’t work an eight to five schedule. The opening of awareness, the freeing of an emotional block occurs when it is ready, and our job is to prepare for that. She was ready and I willing. As she drove and the truck shook and bucked, and that seemed an apt counterpoint to our conversation. How can the senses be redirected when for so long they have run unbridled?
I offered a simple meditation. Sit in a place where you can be alone and close the eyes. Take a few deep breaths and feel the room or the park, feel your surroundings. Follow the breathing in and out. By now you have had several thoughts, how quickly did the mind entertain those thoughts? Bring the attention back to your surroundings and then following the breathing in and out, this is the extent of the meditation. Intro to Meditation 101.
We sat silent for a period and then she glanced over at me and expressed that in ten minutes of speaking with me, she felt better than in two years of counseling. It is not so much what is said, but the spirit behind the words. I am not a counselor who is getting paid for a 50-minute session, no, I am a human being who recognized a soul willing to accept responsibility for their life.
Jeff Bailey © 2018
