Car Wash or Amusement Park?

Step 1.
Learn to be.

We exist. Whether your existence currently feels like you’re a rock in the middle of the sea, being dashed repeatedly by waves- or perharps a tiny, tiny pebble being carried along by the currents of a slow but steady river- or maybe something else entirely- recognise it. Feel it. No, really, feel it- without reacting to it in any manner. Don’t feel sorry for the rock if you think it’s being dashed to bits by the waves; and don’t feel joy for it if you think that it finds the caress of the waves enjoyable… thrilling even, sometimes. And don’t feel nervous about the little pebble being carried powerlessly along the river’s current (so many big, scary looking rocks here and there!)- nor react in relief, thinking ‘the pebble doesn’t have to make any decisions, it just flows along’. No, whoever you are now, whichever situation you are in, recognise it, recognise the pain, recognise the mundanely boring, recognise the pleasures and joys. Just don’t react. Let it all just wash over you like you’re at a car wash, sitting in your car while the soap and the water sprays over your car as you relax, steering wheel in hand. (Oh and don’t forget to roll up the windows, if you haven’t already.)

Step 2.
The kid at the car wash.

So you’re at the car wash, watching the water spray over your car, the automated wipers doing their work- the whole circus. You suddenly remember- you left your phone at work. Or worse yet, you left the grocery list at home and you imagine the face of your wife when you get back home with mung beans instead of musoor. You become tense. You want to leave the car wash and go to a different place. Now. The clock’s ticking. You’re not enjoying yourself, you’re stuck here, somewhere, and you want to be somewhere else.
I remember seeing this video of a five year old kid seated next to his dad while their car goes through the carwash. The kid’s positively elated. He’s overjoyed. He thinks he’s in some kind of amusement park ride or something. And he’s definitely not trying to be somewhere else instead.
But if you’re not feeling like that five year old kid just yet, worry not. There’s hope for you too. Just turn on the music.

Step 3.
Choose your music. Or don’t.

Plug in your favourite USB, or put in a CD (if you have a CD player in your car, that is, mine doesn’t, insert sad smiley), and if you don’t have that, tune into the radio, and if you don’t have that either, just start singing a song. If you’re wondering whether I have delved too deeply into the world of analogies, I may have, so let me be plain: find something you find engaging. If you’re one of the lucky ones, your career is your engaging and rewarding life experience, akin to music at a carwash. If you’re not, find one. Pet a plant, or an animal (plants are easier, heh), make random people you’ll probably never meet again smile, sing, dance, or just sit and do absolutely nothing- there’s so many songs out there. Find your music.
And if you’re happy just watching the water cascade down the windshield while the sound of the water spraying all over the roof soothes you- like you’re in a storm, but safe, nestled snugly in your seat- then you’re happy too.
You just won’t even need to turn on the music anymore.

(It’s being played all around you anyway.)

Picture: by TechPhotoGal on Pixabay