What can you say about a car – a sweet Vibe even – that looks and sounds better from a distance or when freshly out of a tornado-driven thunderstorm?
I’m not materialistic, but even I eventually recognize the time to part with things like my long-appreciated adventure wagon, a 2004 Pontiac Vibe. I’ve been casually investigating replacement options for years and intensely researching car trends for the last month. An unwillingness to part with my hard-earned savings compels me to be wise and take my time as I proceed. I’ve found the coolest car option In my cross-channel digging – even better than heated seats and a remote start. I’ve discovered a blind-spot detector.
Can I wear one as an accessory?
With adult children who are both patient and love their mum, and a generous group of friends who help me identify what is in my blind spots, I still need too-often miss what is about to side swipe my sweet vibe. I need a blind-spot detector.
Something to beep before I innocently say that thing that will unnecessarily grind the burger of that particular person. Or will raise a red flag before I continue on in a series of discovery conversations with someone who is not a good fit for my good and adventuresome heart. Or a safety net that will bounce me away from the teeth-emancipating, snow-concealed boulder I am skiing toward.
A blind-spot early warning system. Don’t you want one?
Because we all know it’s tough to gather your broken teeth and heart bits after being hit by who-knows-what. Despite our open eyes and commitment to wisdom, somebody will still swipe our lunch and eat it right in front of us before we can register what the heck is happening.
To be honest, I am no longer defined, but still boggled by some of the life events that I did not see coming – nor did my family or friends. Just. Boom. And I’m left with my face to the floor looking for my now-broken glasses so I can then look for my heart, dignity, well being and third incisor.
Maybe it would be easier to understand why our blind spots persist if we were younger or inexperienced or careless or lazy. But we are none of those. We live and learn and love. We take care of ourselves, our families, work responsibilities, oil changes and our good hearts. We ask for help and still wonder how we ended up on the roadside with a blown tire calling for help (okay, I know why that happened).
Fortunately, I have great and patient family and friends and a very good succession of talented dentists who are in possession of easy humor.
And I’ve met strangers who were so kind and generous – other owners of 2004 Sweet blue Vibes along the toasty road to Tulsa – who encouraged me to not give up, fold up shop and devolve into bitterness. Some of these people are friends, authors, strangers who ask the best questions or my kids who love me and … ask the best questions while we sit around a table and talk (smack.)
Until I can get a little blind-spot detection device (BSDD) to drop into my purse or a BSDD app for my phone, I will continue to reach, learn, discover, muck up and ask for help. Maybe you will, too. And we can muddle through this magnificent imperfect life together.
So let’s keep pursuing adventure and wonder, friends. Even when we look better from a distance or as we exit a car wash.
Our people are out there. Somewhere. And we are here for them. For us.