Just Do It

Yesterday a fellow Porsche owner popped over for a visit. It was a special visit that didn't cover fixing, or driving, or drooling over unusual Porsches, but rather we discussed means by which a person can enjoy life more fully - okay, so this actually did cover my old Porsche obliquely but it wasn't really intended. My friend told me that I should move away from being too cerebral, and that I should live more from my heart. I probably have to be cerebral for a little while in order to figure out how I might do that smoothly. . . 

It was the mythologist and creative thinker Joseph Campbell who said, "Follow your bliss. If you do follow your bliss, you put yourself on a kind of track that has been there all the while waiting for you . . .", but my friend's words had the same ring to them and I took them seriously, because it certainly is obvious that I over-think all the time. Most things that I do I think through in grinding detail, and this causes me unending dissatisfaction with the result, given that my expectation is never realistic enough in the face of the truths at hand. For example, I often imagine restoring my car to totally new condition, except with certain modifications of course, but then I look at it and my mood dampens because it's just an old car and my efforts don't come to much. Perhaps my litany of pending details to be resolved creates a fog that obscures a reality. It will never be finished. Is it a kind of coverup and maybe an excuse for the car being mediocre? I hope not.

Well, I've over-thought this already, haven't I?  I should just drive the car, regardless, just do it. That's easily enough said if the engine is running well, the transmission is shifting nicely, the suspension aligned properly enough to follow a kind of track that has been there all the while waiting for me. Groan.

I'm going for a drive right now in a 911 that runs, imperfect, or not. 

I did it! I feel good. I cranked up the old Porsche and went for a several hour ride down along the Connecticut River on both the Vermont side and the New Hampshire side, too.  I ignored the details that aren't perfect in my car and simply enjoyed the light, the smells, the traffic-free small roads off in a corner of VT that is open and unassuming, and willing to let a person do what a person needs to do.

Jesus saves Vermont (click for larger view) 

Here is the main lesson I'm getting from all of this so far: I don't have to imagine that it is necessary to diminish anything that I am now - being in my head as much as I am - but rather the real potential will be to add to what I am, to expand beyond my self-made confines and be larger in life. It's a very warm feeling, and my Porsche turns out to be an instrument that can help me to reach a new plateau of bliss. Who knew? I suspected it. Don't sweat small flaws, in yourself, or your Porsche.