Stripping away the rose colored glasses of denial concerning my reality. Getting in touch with truth. Reaching out to others in empathy concerning their reality and their walk to truth.
Thursday, September 1, 2011
Many times I've allowed my ego to write checks that my body cannot cash. You know, bragging and going on about the success I exude from every pore... what a bore... right?! Such is the crux of the tale I choose to share.
In humble community I spied this Chevy truck. My-oh-my a 1967, and loaded with 'unapparent' goodies. Though the 'Green' angel sitting on my shoulder was warning me, I thought, “oh c'mon, it's an old Chevy, what's the harm with a test drive?” Eight cyclinders, a 350 under the hood, no automatic steering, three gears on the column, and a hair-trigger clutch; what could go wrong? A friend and I took the plundge, and I really mean that, as they're were no seatbelts! Add leather seats and I was definitely 'going' places!
I cranked that bad boy up, easied the clutch out, barely touching the gas pedal, and was slammed back into the seat. I took a slight right hand turn and heard tires squalling as I fish-tailed out of the parking lot; like so: “ERRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRKKKKKKKKKKK”... Immediately I was terrified as I fought to regain control. (regain?) Slipped my foot off of the gas and jumped my way to the first traffic light.
The straight steering had left me breathless; I looked over at my friend to see how she was fairing. People react differently to trauma; at least that was what I was feeling – traumatized. But she was laughing. She laughed during the entire test drive. She even felt 'impressed' by the way I handled the huge steering wheel. I didn't have the heart or humility to tell her that 'IT' handled me. I only know that once I parked that truck I was no longer entranced. The good thing is that I think I fixed my spine that had been out of place.(grin)
The next day I test drove this van, bought it, and I'm very happy. If I need a truck I can always remove the seats to haul something around... like my enlarged ego, and a recipe for 'humble pie'.