I am recovering from a bout of new car fever. After sorting all my clothes from a huge pile
based on the principle “does this spark joy?” I realized my current car does
not bring me joy. Surely, I deserve ecstasy every time I drive to the grocery store.
I remembered the other model when I was test driving my current car. I loved that car but decided to be practical and get the one that easily fits into our 1928 garage.
So off I went in search of perfection. I test drove and asked questions, drove more and created charts, researched specs and made columns to see which of these cars hit all the requirements. I did more internet research, went back and
drove different versions, and after two days, I went to bed unclear except that it had to be blue and asked for
guidance.
Woke up the next morning knowing which one was it and texted
the salesman. Sweet relief with such clarity.
And then, second thoughts.
Did I really want to spend this much money in a couple years
on cars? After all, I work from home and rarely drive!
Did I really want to sell my 2020 Prius which has depreciated
so much that I’d have paid almost $1 per mile it’s been driven since purchase?
Did I really need a bigger car, one that would make every
single in and out of our narrow garage an exercise in mindfulness?
Why did I think a new car could deliver joy?
Whose agenda of prestige or status was I pursuing?
What would help me love my current car?
The next time I got into my grey Prius I said, “Good
morning, sweet pea” and gave it a tender pat. She now has a name.
She tucks into my garage so effortlessly, gets 50 mpg, is paid for, and aligns
with my values.
I can buy a better cushion to sit higher and get lumbar
support. I can wash and vacuum more often, use an air
freshener, and pay myself the savings with an experiential destination.
There’s no end to projects, areas to develop, and ways to
grow, but shopping, hunting for that perfect something, is the easiest, most
familiar use of my loose energies. That itch really means it's time to stop and create something, express myself, listen more deeply, or steep in silence.
If I didn’t get a new car, what other areas would get that money, attention and energy?
Time to deepen friendships, make my yard a
beautiful sanctuary, write twhat I want to create, visit my dream list of destinations, and immerse in the topics I
teach, like addiction recovery, transformation, and resistance to change.
I am so relieved I promised myself I would NOT purchase
something the very day I test drove it.
Those 48 hours allowed sanity to emerge and the dopamine rush of a
spontaneous purchase to settle.
What do you do with your inner restlessness?
