Wrenches - what to do when they get thrown in...

Wrenches.  Unexpected events or occurrences that get tossed into the machinery of life.  As in, "Well, that really put a wrench in it!" What do we do when we start our day all ready for productivity and greatness and then find a wrench stuck in the machine?

I think my answer is to watch for distortion.  I was going to write about distortion anyway today, and then the universe provided me with a giant unexpected wrench.  Here's what happened.

My bicycle was stolen.  Yes, that cute one on the right that I just took on a Fourth of July picnic with my honey.  That one.  It was stolen while locked up on an extremely busy street in the French Quarter in broad daylight.  (Oh how I hate to tell you this, because I love my city and I don't want you to think ill of it.)  I haven't given much thought to who did it or how - in fact I'm strangely unable to wish the thief or thieves ill.  I hope somehow that something shifts in a positive way for them- some kind of change or lesson.  But that is not my business. I don't know their story and I never will.

So I ironically asked myself, "What's perfect about this?"  Not a whole heck of a lot. First I just felt disoriented and kind of stupid.  Was I sure that's where I'd parked it? Was that the light post I'd attached it to?  Then I just felt crappy. And I allowed myself to feel crappy - I even shed a brief tear of frustration and general ickiness. A little bit of "poor me." But I stuck with my plans and had a lovely lunch with a friend who was able to pick me up and drive me home too.  I had a bag full of goodies from LUSH that I'll be sharing with my retreat participants. (By the way, there's still room in the retreat if you want to check it out!) I wasn't missing anything except the bike.

I wish this story ended like the wallet story, with me turning the corner and forgetting I'd parked the bike in a completely different place, but alas, that's not the case.  However, when I got home, my sweetheart hugged me and said, "I'm so sorry this happened to you.  You need a bike - let's go get you a new one tomorrow." And we can do that.  We have enough money.  We have enough and more than enough, of everything.

So what about distortion? Well I find that my mind can sometimes go into distortion mode.  Sky is falling mode.  Interestingly, my mind is generally better in the face of minor tragedies like petty theft.  My mind's preferred subject of distortion is in day to day dealings.  It likes to distort how long something's going to take, or how hopeless everything's going to be if I've missed one day of a habit I'm trying to take up.

So next time you're dealing with a major or minor wrench in your plans, watch your mind.  Is it going into distortion mode?  Is it whipping up a giant story about how awful everything is or is going to be?  Ask yourself if you need to believe your mind, or just look around at the actual circumstances, and deal with them in the best way you know how.

Why you don't need to worry

I finally understand.  Worrying is unnecessary.  This can be tough to believe for those of us raised by well-meaning worriers.  We've learned to ask, early and often, "What if (insert catastrophic event) happens??" and then imagine it happening, and then worry about it happening in slow-motion Technicolor detail.

But that's the funny thing about worrying -- it's not really about figuring out what to do if that terrible thing, whatever it is, happens.   Our worries never really go past the catastrophe, which we replay in our minds, adding new themes, variations, outfits, whatever.

In real life, when a catastrophic event does occur, there isn't time to worry.  We just deal with it.  We do our best to address whatever's happening at the time.  We take the steps that seem most appropriate to take.  And if another catastrophe comes on the heels of the first, we do it again.

So here's my real life example.  Ever worry about what would happen if your car died in the middle of a busy highway?  Well, it happened to us on Saturday.  And this is what we actually did.

My sweetheart wondered aloud why the steering and brakes weren't working. And then why the engine was completely dead. (Salty language may have been involved.)  I reached over to find the hazard lights and put them on. We managed miraculously to pull over to a narrow shoulder on the left.  We were on an elevated split on the highway with a retaining wall smack up against the car.  Traffic going over the Mississippi Bridge was beginning to back up and moved slowly to the side of us.

I called the insurance company (we have towing included - yay!)  I listened to music while on hold.  We marveled at the crowds entering the Superdome for the Final Four - we had a great view!  The nice woman on the phone finally came on.  It took a very long time for her to figure out where we were, after lots of describing.  She said she'd call us back when she found a tow truck.  We waited.  We rolled down the windows and sweated while the car heated up.  We debated getting out or staying in - there was nowhere to go and get clear of the car.  We drank water and ate snacks (we'd been coming home from an overnight getaway, so we had lots of yummy food in the car!)

We commented on how lucky we were.  We chatted.  We watched the traffic speed up and tried not to cringe as giant trucks whizzed by at lightning speed, shaking the car.  We waited.  We held hands.  We recapped the weekend.  We wondered if the nice woman would ever call back.  Finally, we got a call from a robot telling us the tow truck would arrive within 40 minutes.

We waited some more.  My sweetheart made the mistake of looking in the rear view mirror, where he could see the cars making last second adjustments to avoid us.  We sweated some more.

Notice that there's nothing about worrying? Even with the waiting, we weren't worrying.  The catastrophic event had already happened, and there we were, still living.  And the tow truck eventually came and all was well.

Except it wasn't.  Our car's engine has a cracked something.  It's dead.  It's nine years old and now we need to think about getting a new car.  This wasn't really in our plans.

There it is: catastrophic event number two.

Except it doesn't feel catastrophic.  We are fine.  We are healthy.  We are surrounded by love.  We will do our research and eventually get another car.  (Extra perk - it will be clean!)

And worrying really isn't part of what's going to help us address any of it.

I'm not saying I never worry, but it seems much less of an appealing choice anymore (and it is a choice!)  What about you?  If you used to be a worrier and have learned to worry less, how did you do it?  Share your story in the comments - let's all enjoy more worry-free living!