Dear Friends,
On a Tuesday morning, I thought I might be among the few seeking a mid-week oil change for their cars. Wrong. My car dealership waiting area was filled to the brim – a mom with her fussy toddler in tow, businessmen and women in suits checking their iPhones, a few students, a retiree reading the paper, folks who looked like they were heading to or returning from the gym. And me.
Busy-looking customer service reps breezed in and out. The large TV on the wall was blaring something that seemed terribly urgent (how to make fruit smoothies, I think). I imagine all of us stuffed into the noisy lounge weren’t there for the same reason, but I did hear the words “oil change” mentioned more than a few times.
Oil changes are perhaps the most basic of car maintenance tasks. Every 3,000 to 5,000 miles, says my technician, and I mostly try to stick to that schedule. But I wasn’t always so diligent. I skipped the auto mechanics elective offered at my high school in favor of taking a woodworking class. I managed to learn how to use a band saw and make a not-very-impressive looking birdhouse. Looking back, I think learning how to check my oil or change a tire would have been more useful.
Consequently, I didn’t know a thing about car maintenance when I got my first car during my senior year of college – a used 1974 brown Toyota Corolla. I can probably count on one hand the number of times I had the oil changed in that little rugged vehicle during the four years I owned it. Luckily, I wised up by the time I bought my second car, a Volkswagen Golf, and I was on my way to being a more responsible automobile owner.
It strikes me that there are more than a few parallels between auto care and self-care – and we have plenty of expressions that affirm this. Dead battery, flat tire, out of gas, needing a tune up – we sometimes describe ourselves in these terms when we’re not paying attention to our own needs. I imagine that for some of us, our own oil needs changing more regularly than scheduled.
Self-care isn’t something I learned in high school, either. Rather, it’s become a lifelong learning opportunity for me. I don’t exercise as much as I like, and I’d love to get more sleep. And, yet, I think I’m much better at using the dip stick and noticing when I’m getting low on oil. I’m better at recognizing when I’m at my limit. I know more often when to say No, when to take a break, and when to adjust my schedule and priorities.
I know my self-care isn’t perfect. And, I’ll admit feeling a little envy sometimes when I see sportier models jogging down my neighborhood street, hitting the gym, and seeming to take a little better care of themselves. But, I think I’m continuing to move in the right direction.
May I keep pluggin’ along . . . 3,000 to 5,000 miles at a time.
Warmly,
Terry