Blowing It

This is an excerpt from the weekly News-Loveletter. If you would like it sent to your inbox directly (with all the other juicy bits, including a mini joy practice), you can add yourself to my mailing list here.

We’d been on the road for an hour last Monday when the check tire light flashed. Pulling into Ontario, Idaho, we found zero tire shops open on Labor Day. Zero. Air hissed as our wheel came to rest on the pavement. We called State Farm for roadside assistance. While we’d understood the plan we’d purchased to cover towing to the nearest service center, the dispatcher said they would cover a mere $30 of the $360.

Seda and I cast a glance at each other across the front seat as the facts rolled in. She was due at work the next morning, an 8 hour drive away. One of our cats was ill and not eating well for our housesitter who was scheduled to be done with the sit in 4 hours. I felt a tightening in my chest and in noticing that, I assessed: Do I want to panic or pause?

What’s in the pause? The Unknown. I chose it. How would I react to the Unknown? The chips appeared to be on the table … but were they? A call to State Farm on Tuesday would sort out whether we were due for further compensation, checking in with the housesitter would determine if she had leeway, the tow truck could arrive in 2 hours or 6, and we may or may not find an open tire shop with our size tires. My body-brain wanted to panic about all the things that could go awry, and I had the power to affect none of them.

I chose the Unknown. I chose it over and over again. I dialed the phone in search of tire shops while resting into what needs were met. The sun was out, the air crisp, and I had a comfortable place to sit. No horrible consequences in that exact moment. I rang tire shops over and over while floating in anti-gravity, turning slowly this way and that in the universe. Adrift in more uncertainty than confusion, I enjoyed the bright blue sky amidst unanswered questions. The situation was not unpleasant.

I knew the uncomfortable was inevitable. And yet, I knew there were gifts in this. How did I know? Because there always is, has been, and will be. My life has shown evidence at every turn that I am provided for, even in the aftermath of violence and despair. So I look for that.

A tire shop with open doors emerged an hour away. The tow truck would arrive within 90 minutes. Immobilized at Love’s (you heard that right) roadside rest and repair, I went in to snag a table with the purchase of a biscuit. I charged my technology and sat down to answer emails. Seda came in, and we played a card game together. It was fun.

In the photo above, Seda looks amused about this adventure. That was not the only feeling of course, but we’d chosen to focus on that, sharing the vibe. My sister and niece happened to FaceTime us while we sat in the cab of the tow truck waiting for our vehicle to be secured. Delighted, we listened to their adventures and shared ours.

Here’s the kicker: Not only did the timing of this flat land as a gift — 25 miles later, we would have been driving through a long stretch of high desert with fewer services. But I have to tell you that something very important was discovered incidentally at the tire shop. One of our other wheels had been holding on by 2 out of 5 bolts. How much stress those bolts had already withstood is Unknown. But 2 bolts … we could have lost that wheel at any time. Instead, the Universe called us in for a change.

What other roadside hazards had we blithely missed on Labor Day? How valuable was it to discover this glitch in our roadside coverage which could have been devastating for our nomadic eldest if he’d been the one to blow a tire first? This pause proved more enlightening than devastating, and I’m so glad we didn’t waste a Monday with feelings of angst and horror about less than there was to celebrate.

When has a seemingly miserable accident led to valuable support and protection for you? How arduous did you find the road to this awakening?