Driver’s Ed
Learning to drive, the most valuable lessons occurred from behind the wheel when my passenger-teacher provided relevant instruction I could use immediately. One night I was driving from Newark to Wildwood, NJ with a guy who worked for my Dad. Making our way south on the Garden State Parkway he said, "We're going a little too fast." I looked at the speedometer and found myself within the range of normal, so I asked, "How do you know?" "Because the car ahead of you is a little too close." He said that almost 30 years ago, and while I can't remember the young man's name, I remember the lesson to this day. In that moment, he provided a building block for years of driving to come.
Several years later, after I'd moved to Boston, I got into a nasty car accident. My little Subaru (and they were truly tiny in those days) got walloped from behind on Rt 95S by an old-style Impala (a version that could comfortably hold a formal state dinner). My car went out of control, hit a Jersey barrier and flipped on its side. Held in by our seat belts, my roommate and I suffered minimal injuries; but the car was totaled, evidenced by the tail light kissing the back of the front passenger seat and the wheels in the air. I later learned that the driver who hit us had been drinking. Although this was not his first offense, there was no arrest made, no charges filed, just a bunch of insurance hassles for me to deal with. It was one of those times, when it would have been helpful to have someone next to me offering the accident version of "Because the car ahead of you is a little too close."
At 19, I didn't know to press charges or negotiate a settlement. It never occurred to me to ask for more than what was offered, and the only car I'd ever purchased was now a pile of junk metal holding my Lionel Ritchie and Journey tapes (yes they were tapes, but not 8-tracks!).
Fast forward 20+ years... I have a friend who regularly encourages me to offer a class on negotiation; because now it wouldn't occur to me to accept any kind of service that was less than fair. Whether Panera forgets the chicken on my take-out salad or a vendor doesn't deliver what they promised, I fervently encourage them to make good and often benefit from excellent customer service as a result. I believe my "fair is fair" conviction genuinely elicits a desire for someone to do their best. Win-win.
As I've been working my way back up part of my personal spiral staircase, I've been tending to different versions of my younger self, providing a kind of safety and security for parts of me that didn't experience safety in their own time. Recently, I realized, I needed the me I am now when I was 19, someone to help me navigate that challenging situation with a clear, experienced voice.
In honoring both parts of me: the one who figured it out as best she could (at 19) and the adult me (who helped to negotiate hundreds of real estate transactions and gets a free lunch when they forget my chicken), I appreciate all of who I am and where I've come from. I am extraordinarily grateful for the guidance others have provided along the way, helping to shape my growth and offering a foundation upon which I build every day.
Integrating these parts of self heals the road rash of youth. If my story resonates with you, and there was a time you didn't have someone as competent as you are now to guide you through, allow a little space for how hard that was. With breath and compassion, let that younger part of you know that an adult is present now - YOU. This doesn't mean adults have all the answers! It just means that, as adults, we have the resources to reach out for guidance when "we're going a little too fast."
With love for you and all your parts,
Joanne Lutz