How long does it take your world to get rocked?
Sometimes, less than a second.
I was driving down the road not long ago, heading between work and my business school class. It was a mild, sun-speckled day, but appearances were deceiving.
I’d had a rough day at the office. And I was driving to campus to take a quiz I didn’t feel fully prepared for.
Somewhere in the middle lay some solace. As I plodded down Dallas streets bathed in golden sunlight, an episode of This American Life played through the speakers of my SUV. It was a rerun, but a compelling one — part murder mystery, part unexpected journey narrative.
As the episode neared its dramatic peak, I approached a green light. Then…
WHAM.
I felt something slam into the side of my SUV.
The airbags didn’t deploy. My vehicle didn’t veer off course. Yet, I instantly knew something was wrong.
By the time I was able to pull over to the side of the road, I could see that my vehicle was significantly damaged.
It turns out the driver of a pickup truck sitting in the turn lane to the left of my vehicle had decided to bail into my lane without warning. There was nothing I could have done to avoid getting hit.
Fortunately, I wasn’t injured. But I was still greatly inconvenienced.
As I got back in my SUV, I thought of all the new items on my to-do list. I would need to file a claim, schedule repairs and get a rental vehicle. All because of an accident that was in no way my fault.
While insurance would foot most of the repair bill, I would still bear the cost of lost time while getting everything back in order.
And until I was able to get my SUV into the shop, I would need to drive around with a dented door. I would carry the stigma of appearing too cheap to fix the damage or to too irresponsible to have avoided it in the first place.
During that time, I imagined a figurative bull’s eye on my vehicle — with other drivers judging me and avoiding my vehicle as much as possible. I felt vulnerable and ashamed.
Why did I feel this way? The answer lies in my core tenets, particularly when it comes to responsibility and ownership.
My SUV is the most substantial item I own. It’s also the biggest purchase I’ve ever made.
As a control enthusiast, I feel compelled to protect that investment. I’m obsessed with keeping it out of harm’s way.
This is why I pay extra to park my car in a covered spot. It’s why I drive with extreme caution in bad weather. It’s why I leave a buffer between my vehicle and nearby ones as much as possible.
But of course, protective measures only go so far. The open road is full of risks, from falling objects to aloof drivers. Danger lurks around every turn.
So, when I find myself in harm’s way, I latch onto a new obsession. That of getting whole.
I focus all my attention on what it will take to get things back to normal. As if the mishap had never happened.
And if someone else is liable for the damage incurred, I see to it that they incur the costs.
Call it my pound of flesh moment. Or whatever else you may. But when things go sideways, getting whole is my entire objective.
I’m not sure how healthy this thinking is.
After all, bad things will happen to all of us in life. Things that are inherently unfair and a lot worse than damage to a car door.
When these mishaps occur, the primary focus should be on moving forward. Getting whole is a secondary concern, as it might not be a feasible proposition.
For instance, if we were to suffer a debilitating injury, we might never fully recover from it. Yet, life must go on. We must move forward, even if we do so in a compromised fashion.
I grapple with this dichotomy as I face milder crises in my life. Is it truly worthwhile to expend the energy needed to erase the dents and scratches life can add to my body or my possessions? Am I breaking my own rule by chasing perfection?
Perhaps. Perhaps not.
What I do know is this.
I will keep trying to remain whole as much as possible. To cut out risk and limit instances of my own liability.
And when misfortune strikes — when, not if — I will be resilient. I will focus on getting back on the horse as steadfastly as possible. And I will keep moving forward.
That, in its essence is what getting whole is all about. About taking that hit and keeping on moving forward.
That is where I was, quite literally, in the aftermath of my car accident. But really, it’s where I’ve been throughout the peaks and valleys of life.
And so have we all. It’s what makes us stronger.
Let’s keep that momentum going. Let’s keep plowing forward in the face of adversity and challenges. Let’s do what it takes to get whole.
We’ll be better for it.