I’m sitting here, in a narrow leather chair at the wheel repair shop… surrounded by wheels and rims and men with grease on their hands and cars in various stages of disrepair. It’s been storming all night, loud clapping thunder that was only out witted by the sharp electrical flashes of lightning that covered the entire sky. But now, as I sit here, the sun is shining. The clouds have disappeared and there is that wonderful smell of a fresh rain filling the air.
The wheels on my car have been squeaking — for a while. It’s rather embarrassing. That’s what brought me here to get them worked on, the embarrassing part. My neighbors would turn when I came down the road. Strangers would wince as I pulled in to the grocery store parking lot. I, however, ignored the sound for a while. I simply turned up the radio and sang along as if nothing was wrong. It worked for a bit. But then, even I became too aware of the squeak to not take action.
My wheels squeak all the time. I think this must have been an important detail because the look on the repair guy’s face when I told him this fact made me think it was an important issue. He looked horrified to be honest — in that way that wheel repair guys can look or brake repair guys or those guys who change your oil. They ask us these questions knowing our answers will confound them — but they ask them anyway, “… didn’t you hear it squeak?”
Apparently, our cars are engineered to give us warning signs when they are in need of some attention. We are, in fact, supposed to heed those warnings. When your oil goes low, a bright light flashes (best you should attend to this right away). When your brakes go bad, they squeal (and if you ignore the squeal, it becomes a very over-powering grinding sound). When your wheels go bad they squeak, all the time. When you neglect these things, you get stares from your neighbors and grimaces from complete strangers and gasps of horror from the repair guy (they are often appalled at me).
So I’m sitting here, at the wheel shop. Getting the repairs I should have taken the time to fix several weeks ago. I ignored all the warning signs my car was giving me and instead only went for assistance when I was too embarrassed to drive any further and now I am (quite literally) paying the price. And… I’m watching the other people come in and out of here, they know what their cars need. They seem so confident in the announcement of the various afflictions. But me, I’m lowering my head. I’m keeping my eyes on my phone, pretending to read something intently. I’m speaking softly when it’s my turn. I’m aware of my neglect.
We are a lot like our cars I guess… we give off warning signs when we are in need of repair. When you run too far and too fast the day before, your legs refuse to move. When you let a cold linger too long, your cough will remind you to slow down and rest. When your mind can’t possibly juggle any more, it drifts away, reminding you to be still.
We need to pay attention to ourselves. We need to pay attention to each other. A warning light would be best, it could flash brightly telling those around us that we need some attention, we need to slow down, we need to reach out. A warning light for those times we need to let others know. So when they ask that question, “… are you all right?”, they don’t look confounded by our answer — or our lack of an answer — a warning light.
So, I’m sitting here, waiting for my car. Lifting my head long enough to enjoy the beautiful blue sky, enjoying the smell of newly fallen rain, watching the strangers around me talk and mingle and smile at one another. I’m wondering what other repairs are going to be needed. I’m wondering what signals will I be able to see now that I’m finally paying attention to the warning signs. I’m sitting here… figuring it all out.
I love the moral in this. I am looking forward to reading more. Thank you for sharing. 🙂
Thank you for coming here!
I hope you return and share your thoughts.
I look forward to checking out your blog!
This has nearly driven me to tears. Holding back, I may come back to allow them to flow. For now, I will concentrate on this comment. I want to run & hug you & tell you that I get this. That I, too, ignore so many lights & sounds and I’m tired of doing so but can’t seem to know how to stop for repairs. Thank you so much for being such an inspiration.
Stop for repairs Liz — it’s the best solution.
Thank you for coming here!
Beautiful, Becky. What a wonderful conceit.
“A warning light would be best, it could flash brightly telling those around us that we need some attention, we need to slow down, we need to reach out.”
I think the forehead would do best. We could check ourselves out int he mirror, and then, even if we tried to ignore it, everyone we saw would be unable to ignore it. Even if we could, and even if they didn’t say anything, just seeing their anxious eyes darting up to it every time it blinked would make it impossible to ignore.
It’s a pleasure being on the receiving end of the stuff you’re figuring out.
Yes — a warning light on our foreheads, you might be on to something there.
I think, we have a tendency to be silent when we should speak or a tendency to say we’re fine when we’re not. The people around us follow our lead — it’s an awkward dance that often has two people hearing totally different music.
A warning label would be great!
Thank you for coming here and reading and commenting.
i am reading this on the couch where I keep ending up every night for the past two and a half weeks because this cold just keeps lingering, probably because I haven’t stopped long enough to let it get better.
i get everything you said here, i get it and i wish i had a solution, but i do know that finding the blue sky and inhaling the scent of fresh rain are definitely steps in the right direction.
Thank you.
It was a gorgeous sky!
Thank you for this comment — I wish we all had a solution, maybe some type of daily vitamin that strengthens our insight!
Oh but if only there were warning signs everywhere, and we heeded them.
Would we heed them, if we had them everywhere?
-hugs- I have been in that repair shop, not for my brakes, but for a bad fuel pump, that they couldn’t believe I drove with for weeks, that was so bad it wasn’t pumping fuel -at all- they said. They couldn’t believe the truck even started, never mind ran. That, is prayer as it’s best. Ok, so maybe not, but we were really broke. We prayed. Anyways. It too rained that day, and I think there is something to sitting in the greasy waiting room with the loud sounds of repairs being made, and rain falling outside, and the cleansing afterwards, in so many ways.
I love this comment Crystal — like we were sitting down recounting our days events with each other, that’s nice.
I wonder if we would be aware of those warning signs too, it seems we have them. We ignore them on ourselves and others. Maybe being more aware is what’s needed.
Thank you!
A warning light, that would be good. Our bodies do give warnings, but most of us have learned to ignore them. A little down time, or sitting back and venting with a friend helps. Thanks B 🙂
… or a blog. 😉
We do ignore our warning signs and we do ignore the waring signs of those we care about. We need a manual!
Thank you Kristin.
I knew where you were going with this at the transition from paragraph 3 to 4….and I loved the idea of it.
We do the equivalent of turning up the volume on the radio within our own daily lives to distract ourselves from the warning signs. We use food, alcohol, shopping, and other vices as maladaptive tools to avoid the work that comes with acknowledging the conditions in our lives reflected in those warning signs.
Another contributing factor is that we, as women overwhelmed and overburdened in an incredibly fast-paced society, have allowed ourselves to become disconnected with our intuition and inner voice. Not only have we gotten in the habit of ignoring them, but tragically enough disregarding them and silencing them.
Our intuition and inner voice are there for a reason…part of our reptilian brain that has stood the test of years of evolution. It is an asset of our humanity that we don’t leverage nearly enough. And the truth, as you so eloquently pointed out, is that we have to face the music eventually…and when we do…the costs associated with the action(s) required to address and remedy the escalating warning signs that we ignored usually ends up being a high price to pay indeed.
Very valuable post, my friend…thank you!
Your comment is a post all to itself… so point on, so insightful… so exactly what I wanted to say!
I love what you said about we, as women, allowing ourselves to be disconnected from our own inner voice and our own intuition. That’s so true… but changeable!
I’m looking to change that fact… thank you for pointing it out!
Thank you!
I love this post. You have no idea how much I wish I had blinking lights all over me sometimes. It would make things much clearer for myself and other people with a lot less misunderstanding. Home run on this post!
❤
Home run has given me a HUGE (bigger than Elvis) smile!
Thank you!
I think this blog might be my blinking lights — hmmm.