The older I get the less I know. I’m not as sure as I used to be, about anything. I seemed to know so much more when I was in my twenties. I knew what happened after I died, I knew that marriage was until “death do us part”, I knew that I wouldn’t make the same mistakes my parents did, I knew that problems didn’t need to be complicated, they just needed to be solved.
I was feisty, opinionated and full of life and zest. These days I feel like the lemon that’s had its juices squeezed out of it. It’s not that my life has always been easy. I’ve been through my fair share of loss like everyone else. I’ve witnessed the slow and tortuous death of my father courtesy of a malignant brain tumor. Shortly after his death I watched my mother lose herself and her memory. I witnessed with helplessness the unspeakable grief of one of my sisters when her daughter was killed in a car accident. I mourned the death of my former marriage for years and I walked alongside my friends as they struggled with illness, children gone awry and well-loved jobs lost.
I’ve had the honor of sitting with the pain of my clients, some of whom seem targeted by Life that has proven over and over that it’s not fair given the undeserved tragedies that have come their way.
I used to think I was a strong and resilient person no matter what. I’m not so sure anymore. At my age, I assumed I would be more solid, mature, less affected by acts of pettiness, less involved in pettiness, more of an actual Grown Up.
Although it would be impossible for me to bind myself to anything that smacks of religion, if I’m drawn to the teachings of anything it would be Buddhism (minus the long hours of meditation, mantras and statues of Buddha).
I’ve been more than helped by the teachings of letting go as I've found that letting go is one of the more active and deliberate choices one can make, as well as surprisingly liberating.
Okay, this is going to sound stupid, superficial, spoiled and insane. The thing I’m struggling with right now is letting go of my car. Yes, my car. I make myself a little sick that this is even a struggle.
Almost three years ago, on a clear crisp fall day in Boston where tourists and locals were packing the streets with smiles on their faces and seemingly no cares in the world, I was stunned when I turned on the TV in my hotel room to find that the stock market had taken a dip that plunged the country into the waters of icy cold fear and loss. My conservative portfolio had taken a liberal hit and I longed for the wisdom to know what to do.
Upon returning home, I made a rash and impulsive move. I bought a brand new car, a Toyota RAV 4. It was a car that was just the right size, right color with the right fast engine. It was the right car for my dogs and my beloved bike. That car was as right as the porridge Goldilocks ate with greed and satisfaction.
Then the recession happened and my husband’s construction business took a hit. I became sole support and the burden of providing began to wear me out and made me question my own resiliency. I used to think I was so resilient.
Several weeks ago while driving in The Car that had become a metaphor for my independence, the Wise Inner Voice told me that I could sell the car, pay off some debt and ease the burden, help the sleepless nights, turn off the dread like a light bulb that had long been burnt out anyway.
My car is going to be sold today and my act of letting go has become more of a tug of war. And what is up with that? I chide myself for my attachment to something material. I know I don’t need the damn car. I have options that make me more fortunate than most; my office is in a small cottage on my property so I use my car mainly for running errands in a mid-size town. I don’t make matters any easier by hating myself for struggling with this.
I don’t want to regret, resent, or languish over any of this for one more minute. Yet there it is.
And here I am with the mirror held in front of my face and I don’t like what I see.
Confronting the ugly truths about oneself is no easy task but children are starving, soldiers are dying, and homes and livelihoods are being lost.
I remember the wise words of my Mother when she used to remind us, “I cried because I had no shoes until I met a man who had no feet.”
But I might indulge myself today with a tear and a wave goodbye, a last touch, one final look as I walk away. And I will close my eyes and prepare my soul. The reality is that the future will only bring more loss, more letting go that will guarantee the perspective that the forfeiture of several tons of steel is more than laughable.
But for today, since I am so far away from detachment and enlightenment, I will live with and chide myself for a heavy heart that doesn’t speak well about my character. I will take an honest look in that mirror and face it all, the wrinkles, the scars and the imperfections that make Me me.
And then maybe I can learn something, maybe become older and wiser. Maybe I can even learn to be a Grown Up. Finally.
TIP:
Enter the amount, and click "Tip" to submit!
Jesse Kavadlo
Mary Wagner
keri h
Frosty Funk
Wren Dancer
Liane Carter
Salon.com
Comments
I appreciate reading this from you.
I've come to believe that it is this because of this very sense, from black and white, the world has become grey, that we are indeed grownups.
You sound like more than just a grown-up to me.
Just stay away from that mirror! No need for that nonsense.
"Being grown up is so highly over-rated!"
I also note you are getting a great deal of bhuddist-like advise in the comments, so I will share with you the thought that I have whenever I am tempted to feel sorry for myself for ANY reason.
"At least I ain't a burka clad woman in Afghanistan!"
Be well Mary. Rated, as always.
That will have to do for my attempt at wisdom for you.
The loss of a car is a symbol of the times we live in. I only hope our economy turns around soon.
Let me know if you ever need a ride!
Congrats on the EP!
You will feel (if not already) a big cloud lift from your shoulders with the burden of the big heap of steel gone. Ain't no big thing. Plus, you have a silo! And a tree house! And...and...so there! xo
I remember when my footless father stopped crying when he met a man with no legs, and I just stood there tapping my toes, wondering when the limbless guy would roll in and shut everybody up.
Thank you for this beautiful, thought-provoking and well written post. It is just lovely.
Joan H: But isn't being a mensch a good thing? (Keep in mind I had to learn look it up being raised Catholic and Irish and all.) But I hear what you are saying loud and clear. Something I've been working on, this cutting myself some slack. And that is yet another work in progress. Thank you Joan for your support! It always means the world. Truly.
bbd: Yes Barry, I trust you. You do know that it represents more than a "car". And you also know the value of letting go of the things that we hold precious and dear to us. And for me as someone who finds it's important to give (with boundaries), it's always a good sell when I realize that what I learn can potentially help others. Here I've found extremely good company. Thank you!
Just Thinking: I agree. The "gray's" teach us that there are no guarantees, that sometimes life is a crap shoot and sometimes it's like winning the lottery. I'd like to come up with a different color for this in-between place. Gray depresses me so. Instead of black and white, perhaps knowing that there is a kaleidoscope of variations and themes, all rich and full of colors and treasure, even when we don't recognize them as such at the time. Thank you so much for your good thoughts.
Margaret: Oh, pursuing the "why's" is a bloody waste of time isn't it? We can come up with plenty of theories but so much of life has no rhyme or reason or answers. Your right about what my car represented to me and writing this post and reading responses like yours have given me clarity and light. I thank you from the bottom of my heart.
bobbot: Thank you so much for reading and commenting! This again proves what a wonderful human being you are. I know you have suffered and lost much and suffer still. Yet you find the time to encourage me. You are so right. I find that depression often arises from lack of choices and to be backed into a corner "sucks". Thank you. That perspective brought relief.
Buffy: Loved your comment and the use of "in the driver's seat". Your wit, humor and wisdom are all three of my favorite things about you. Thank you.
Ben Sen: Well you made my day. I think I remember you telling me this before but I'm a slow learner and forgot. And I feel better now knowing that it means "awake". I remember my awakening and it's the difference between night and day. Thank you so much for reading.
From the Midwest: You are so right. The car was just the beginning and inventory has been taken and things that have been sitting stagnant in storage are being brought out and sold. It's a cleansing of sorts and it feels really wonderful (unless I allow the ridiculous self-pity to set in, which I'm not saying I'm immune from by any means!). Thank you for your good and clear headed thinking.
lorimarie: Your comment exemplifies who you are and why you are my best friend. And there's not enough words in the world that could adequately express my gratitude always for you.
Christina: Yes, I agree. How silly it is the death grips we hold on to certain things, as if by holding them so tight our fingers turn blue we will manage to keep them forever. Thank you.
David: David! It's been such a long time and what a treat to see your comment and your name. I think of you and your beautiful family from time to time and your words mean a lot. As for the Grown Up part, I read (and re-read etc.) a great article called "Growing Up" and if anyone wants to read it, I'd be happy to share (through a PM). I am finding that more I'm willing to embrace all the good things implied in being a Grown Up, the giddier I feel. It's a mystery as to why we resist it so much. Again, thank you so much and I hope you are well.
rita: Yes, yes yes. You get it. You understand what The Car meant. And yes, at our age we weren't anticipating anything like this. I feel your kinship here rita and if you were here, I'd hug you tight. Thank you.
Erica: Cutting myself some slack as we speak. Thank you!
Just Thinking: So glad you came back. And it makes me happy that something in this sparked something in you to make some changes. We could start an OS Cleansing Ourselves of Stuff fest! A tiny revolution of sorts. As for the mirror, yeah you are so right. It was a cruel tease anyway...I can't afford the Botox that would surely erase these wrinkles in seconds!
jramelle: I loved your comment and I had to laugh with the part where you were born at 50 and going backwards. And yes, life does have a way of evening itself out doesn't it. From the sounds of it, I think many, myself included, would benefit from your perspective and wisdom. It's all we've got anyway isn't...well at least some perspective at least. It gives me joy to know that the piece resonated with you and I thank you very much for your good comment.
Lainey: I'm feeling your love and support. I am and I thank you.
Hells Bells: Oh yes the promises we bought into being products of the 50's. Yes, you get it. And I appreciate your kindness and your compassion here. I really do.
dirndl skirt: I understand what you are saying, especially the "born in America" part. And my guess is that you will resonate with this...when looking at any problem in a broader sense, it makes it rather difficult to feel sorry for oneself. Thank you very much for reading and commenting. And yes, thanks to the comments here, including yours, I feel much much lighter.
trilogy: I am in good company here aren't I? I know you understand, I know you've been through your own difficulties. I know we have walked similar paths and we both know we are so much better off! Thank you to someone I count as friend.
Monsieur: I love and admire what you are saying about cars, but I would be misleading if I did not tell you about my options. A 1996 GMC suburban sits on my property, a relic from days of old where nothing else could fit the four small children that needed rides from soccer to school. It runs just fine. And a Volvo my oldest son keeps parked here for when he visits home and a car he insists I must use. And the best of all, my trusty bike that frees one of guilt and smog all at the same time. I had to smile at your "Welcome to the 21st century" because I think you are right. Time to simple down. Thank you!
Candace: You bring up a good point...all the good things that come with age. I'm afraid I depressed my youngest daughter with this post and it was not my intention to do so. I have many good things yet to come and anticipate...and like you I suspect, there will be many. Thank you!
divorcedpauline: Listen, superficial and shallow can be quite therapeutic, I truly believe this and if driving your shiny Red prius gives you a "false self-esteem" and brings you a smile, I'm all for it! I love your humor. You're right. We were twins separated at birth. Let's meet!
Tim4change: Well, maybe it's not the grown-up part that sucks but the Realities of life. I love the line that helps you so, ""At least I ain't a burka clad woman in Afghanistan!" and ain't it the truth! You made me smile. Thank you much.
Susie: Hey be careful...I might take you up on it...I'll need a lift to the Annual Naked Pumpkin Run! I'm good, like I said, I am most fortunate to have options and Boulder has been protected more than most, but the "hard losses" that life teaches us are just that. Thank you so much for your encouragement.
Chuck: Wise and supportive words from a very sage man. I embrace them and thank you so much for saying them.
grif: Glad you enjoyed grif! I'll let you know about my status as full blown Grown-Up but we may have to meet in the afterlife somewhere to see that :)
Just Cathy: Now you made me cry. For reals. And don't think I wasn't thinking about that tree house. The tree house that was hand built by the good and playful efforts of your brother-in-law is a precious and wonderful thing. Now come here and hang out in it with me!
Adam: The use of humor is a display of brilliance. Your comment made me laugh. And why am I suddenly thinking of that horrific movie "Boxing Helena"??? I'm suddenly ecstatic. Thank you.
And, if you're not laughing out loud right now, pick up the phone and dial your big sissy!
To want is part of our human nature, the danger is to go so far that we no longer want anything. I've been where you are, was there for decades. Eventually you give up and don't want anything and suddenly you are just a thing. It's okay that you wanted to keep the car, you're human.
What do you tell your clients about this?
True that cars are just 'things'.
A car that is new and reliable enhances feelings of personal security.
They can symbolize independence as we become dependent upon them.
I remember when my idea of a luxury car was one that started in the morning and had a full tank of gas.
It strikes me that one of the hardest things to do is to accept that part of ourselves that is weak.
Then again, I'm not a therapist nor expert in any area that would make my opinions any more worthy than the next person's. These are just some opinions I hold having thought about such matters a bit... They work for me, and I hope they help you somehow, too.
As for hair? "Grey" ought to be banned as the describing color, I believe. Silver. Pewter. Nickel. Great descriptive shades.
Can't we be more creative and beautiful about that as well, I keep wondering?
Botox? Don't get me started on that one... : )
"But for today, since I am so far away from detachment and enlightenment, I will live with and chide myself for a heavy heart that doesn’t speak well about my character. I will take an honest look in that mirror and face it all, the wrinkles, the scars and the imperfections that make Me me."
I'll leave with these precious and far reaching thoughts. Thank you, Mary.
♥R
emma peel 2: Well I'd have to disagree with you here. I find you to be an awesome grown up, in all the best of ways. Thanks for reading!
l'Heure Bleue: Yes I am human. And human beings are complicated messes aren't we? Or at least we think we are. Very cool about the sign you found! And it is true that no matter what, there is someone who is suffering far more than any of us. There is a collective pain and if we're aware the connection we can make to one another (as so many of us have done in these comments) is to reach out, offer understanding, a nod and an encouragement. Thank you much for your good comment.
Miguela: You're right. I'm more than okay. And yes, life can wear us down all right, especially when the high pressure events of life come in waves. It's hard to come up for air, but the less we resist, the more quickly we can pop back up. Or at least that's the hope :)
Nick: Great question and one I asked myself. I strive to practice what I preach and I know that acceptance is a process, not a single event. So yes, I would tell my client that it would be okay to grieve the loss, the meaning, the attachment. There is no shame in that. And I would encourage them to find the richness, the treasure in the loss because there's always something sparkling to find. You speak of weakness, I would probably use the word "capacity". We are wise to know what our capacity is, what our lack is, and sure, what our weaknesses are. We might as well, we have so many of them! Thanks for a great comment that prodded me just a bit. I do well with that.
greenheron: "You do it again and again and again." Yes! That's right. Grief, letting go, etc. is not a linear process but a cyclical one. Getting ready to go to the coffee shop this morning, I instinctively looked for my car. Seeing the empty spot was a bit of a pang. And there it was again. Oh yes, that's right, it's gone. Okay. I walked back into the house and started some laundry. It occurred to me how old my washer and dryer are. They were old when I bought the house 12 years ago. They both run like a charm. And a rush of gratitude poured over me for that. Those simple little things. Thanks so much for reading and commenting.
Kent: Now Kent you could be a therapist! A lot of wise words here that I appreciate so much. These words especially: "The grief you're feeling is not about the car, it's about your relationship with the car, and that relationship is a real and tangible thing within your head. You have to confront it as such." I also realized that another thing I was grappling with was shame. An egoic thing...an embarrassment when people ask me where my car is. I can be quite hard on myself (a pattern I continue to work on as graciousness to oneself is a good thing indeed). Thank you for all the time you took to give me this very very helpful feedback.
Just Thinking: I will not get you started on Botox. And I loved the rainbow because it's true. I became conscious of this whole "grey" thing the other day while working with a client. And I said, "Let's come up with something other than grey. Grey is so depressing and this learning is vibrant alive and full of life and color." I said it as much for myself as I did for her. (Don't let any therapist tell you they are above learning from their clients.) And I agree about the hair color as well. My husband has a head of curly hair that I adore. It has beautiful swirls of silver and pewter and some strands of copper. Friends and family often say, "Nick's hair has gotten so grey!" And I laugh and say, "Whatever. His hair is beautiful, that's all I know." You're right...we have huge abilities to be creative with our thoughts and our language and our choices. Thank you for a great discussion.
Fusun: A heartfelt thank you. Your comment here (and on FB) meant so much to me, especially coming from you. I'm more than halfway through your book so I feel I know you just a little bit, you and your great heart and your words of wisdom. And knowing that you and I are keeping company with all these good thoughts brings comfort. Thank you!
Steve: That could be a very nice way of putting it :) Thank you very much for reading and adding this good thought.
Thoth: "The more I know the more I feel alone and isolated". I wonder about that. I don't know why but it reminds me of the reality that when we are partnered with someone, eventually one of the partners will leave us, or we will leave them, either in death or otherwise. And at the end of the day, we do well to grapple with whether or not we feel comfortable in our own skin, in our own company, in our own aloneness. But now I'm thinking it's too early to think such deep thoughts so I will consider to ponder. I want to thank you much for your support here, of my writing and what I was trying to share. It's brought a warmth to my heart.
Delia: "The truth doesn't just set you free, it sets the reader free too." You could not have paid me a higher compliment. Because I don't believe there is anything special or unique about me, the struggles and challenges I face now must be shared by most. You're right...we're so afraid to just be honest for fear of what others might thing. But the reality is that our truth can bring freedom for others and an opportunity to connect with compassion. Thank you!
ninjakat: Thank you very much for reading and taking the time to comment. Much appreciated.
al loomis: I have a bicycle, my beloved bicycle that honestly would have been harder for me to give up than the car. As for the zen buddhism, I looked up the Boulder center. Lots of interesting classes and meditation. Thanks for the thought. I'm going to pursue.
Roger: Thanks for reading and your kind thoughts to me. And the gentle reminder that it was just a car. And so many things to be grateful for!
Blue in TX: Oh I've had my back and forth moments since I relinquished that car. Feeling the ridiculous sting of resentment and not trusting the space that surely is bringing relief to my life. And if I still drank, I'd be weeping right with you into a very large glass of wine! Thanks so much for understanding. It helps.
Matt: Thank you! And you're right about the message--written when I was in quite the gloomy mood. My youngest daughter pointed this out to me after she read the post and I agreed. So many present and future things to enjoy, but loss is a part of life and becomes more so as we age. Sometimes I can depress myself! Thanks for adding me as a "friend".
Brazen Princess: Love the poster you got your father! Made me laugh. Don't know if you've heard of the very good book "Necessary losses" but there is something to let go of on a daily basis and when we learn the act of surrender (vs. submission), we learn that the release is an act of setting oneself free. Not to see easy for us humans to do! Thank you so much for reading and your good comment.