I’m not that keen on driving. Especially in traffic. Especially when I don’t know where I’m going.
Joe and I usually only have one car. And Joe does 99% of the driving.
He bought a van for our recent cross-Canada trip and then sold it. In order to deliver the van to the purchaser, we needed to take the ferry to Victoria. He would drive the van. I would follow in my car.
We recently moved to Langley. Neither one of us knew exactly how to get to the ferry terminal. No big deal, we have “Tommy” (TomTom, our GPS). Arrangements were made: Joe would take Tommy and lead. I would follow. He’d drive onto the ferry, I’d park and walk on. We’d rendezvous at the gift shop on board.
Just before we left, I implored: “Please drive slowly.”
He agreed.
Part way there, I find myself following Joe onto what I’m pretty certain is the wrong exit. (While I may not have any a good sense of direction, I can read signs and I know we don’t travel through New Westminster to get to the ferry terminal.)
Uh oh. After traveling thousands of miles with Joe, I am aware of this fact: the minute Joe gets lost or takes a wrong turn, he gets frustrated and then he drives faster.
Seconds later, my hunch is proven correct. The van accelerates. He starts passing cars. The traffic thickens. Now there are 3 green vans in front of me. I lose track of which one is Joe. I follow the furthest ahead green van onto an exit, not entirely sure it’s the right van or the right exit. By the time I come around the corner, the van is gone…and I’m faced with a decision: 3 different roads to choose from. No sign that says “Ferry This-a-way.”
I’m fucked.
I choose a direction and merge onto the highway. No green van in sight. I have no idea where I am. I’m worried that the road I’m on might lead into Vancouver and heavy traffic. I don’t have a map. I don’t have a phone. And I don’t know my way home.
Panic. I start to feel the tears coming up. (And I’m not typically a crier.)
The road I’m on is quiet. This helps. I take a deep breath and slow down a bit to collect myself.
Then I analyze the situation. While I don’t know the exact roads, I have a rough idea of where Vancouver, the ferry terminal and Langley are located in relationship to each other. I expect I’ll drive past a gas station where I can stop and ask directions and possibly buy a map. This is not exactly a life threatening situation.
I come to a red light and…miracle of miracles, there’s a sign pointing to the ferries. Huge sigh of relief. All is good with the world.
Except that I’m madder than hell at Joe.
As I drive towards the ferry terminal, my thoughts fuel my anger:
- He *abandoned* me!
- He purposefully tried to lose me!
- I asked him to drive slowly and he *broke his promise*
- He’s a fucking jerk not a very nice man
And then I remembered the gist of something I had read just the night before:
Try looking at the world as if everyone is enlightened *except you* – that every person, every situation was specially sent by the Universe to teach you something about yourself.
I rolled my eyes and mentally gave the author the finger.
Then I considered it.
What could I learn from this? What could I have done differently?
I could have printed out the route from MapQuest. Or even hand drawn a rough map. I could have insisted on going first and carrying the GPS (it’s not like I didn’t know Joe’s driving habits.)
I could drive more often so I’m more comfortable with it. I could learn my damned way home.
Instead, I abdicated all responsibility and made myself dependent on someone else.
Ouch.
But, it’s all his fault!
It’s so much easier to blame other people or outside forces, rather than looking at ourselves. And, seriously: Joe is clearly wrong here. Right?
The trouble with blaming others is that it takes away our power. It makes us victims. Helpless.
Oh poor me. I got lost and it’s all Joe’s fault. He didn’t look after me.
Where do you go from there? To change the situation, the *other person* has to do something different. Joe has to step up and do a better job of looking after me. All I can do is whine and nag at him.
Newsflash: It’s not Joe’s job to look after me. It’s mine.
And then there’s two sides to every story.
When Joe arrived at the gift shop, I was relieved to see him (I was worried that maybe he might have turned around and gone home when he lost me) – and also still royally pissed off somewhat irritated.
His explanation: “You got caught at the light. The sign for the ferry was right there. I figured you could just follow the signs like I did.” (Then he blamed Tommy for causing the whole problem in the first place. Bad GPS. Bad.)
Turns out that while I couldn’t pick him out of the 3 green vans in front of me, he could spot my red car behind him. From his perspective, he never lost me.
Despite not being wrong, he did suck up a bit and buy me dinner.
And on the way back, I surprised him by taking the keys and driving us home.
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{ 7 comments… read them below or add one }
There is NOTHING in this world that will bring me to the point of completely losing my shit like being lost. Logically there’s no reason for me to think I will be stranded forever in a foreign land, but my body believes it and it’s terrifying. Yay for GPS. And printed maps. And here’s to not needing other people to be completely responsible for us!
Kelly Parkinson´s last blog ..What is Headline Jeopardy- please
You absolutely nailed this one. It took me a long time to be able to take some deep breaths and look at things from other angles. And it usually isn’t pretty. Or easy. But it certainly makes life a whole lot lighter.
CRACKING UP!
Great post.
>>>Try looking at the world as if everyone is enlightened *except you* – that every person, every situation was specially sent by the Universe to teach you something about yourself.
I rolled my eyes and mentally gave the author the finger.
@Kelly – yeah. I’m generally pretty calm, cool and collected in “crisis” situations – to the point of being criticized for it when I worked in IT. (“The *server is down* – why aren’t you freaking out???” – umm, because it doesn’t help and because I can’t think and freak out at the same time?) But that feeling of being lost while driving…brings up something primitive and lizard brainy in me.
@VBailey – I hear you. Not easy at all to do this sort of self work. And I still resist it sometimes…way more fun to point the finger (but not highly useful.)
@brooklynchick – glad you laughed at that line…I’m quite proud of it.
Patty–awesome post! My favorite bit is the same as brooklynchick’s:
“I rolled my eyes and mentally gave the author the finger.
Then I considered it.”
I think we all pretty much go kicking and screaming toward enlightenment.
And I have to ask…did you use Tommy when you drove home? (ducking and running…)
Is it embarrassing to admit that I need a GPS to lead me home?
Of *course* I used Tommy. (And I have absolutely no idea how I ever drove *anywhere* without him.)
Of course, you can’t have forgotten the time that Tommy tried to make us drive into a river on the way to Vernon!! Gawd that was a great road trip!!