Out Of Gas

Are you one of those people who wait until their check engine light is on to fill up their tank?  I have friends and family who scoff at my discomfort at the slightest sign that the gas level has dipped below a fourth of a tank. I immediately pull over at the nearest station to fill up. There is a reasonable justification for the obsession, and it lies in self-preservation.  The vast majority of my car trips, both business and pleasure, involve solo travel; I don’t relish the idea of being stranded in unfamiliar territory.

It’s a fixation.  I confess that fact to illustrate the unfathomable event that occurred this past weekend.  Returning from a very successful book signing event, I decided to take the scenic route (unfamiliar to me but compliments of GPS) through wooded landscape and small towns.  The drive was both peaceful and beautiful for several hours of easy breathing.  My mind started replaying some emotional issues that I had been helping family and friends navigate.  Away from the fast-paced interstate, where the need for vigilance surpasses the ability to daydream, I allowed my mind to ruminate on others’ problems in hopes of coming up with strategies for assistance.

I had just returned to the Interstate for the last leg of the trip when a dear friend’s face illuminated my navigation screen, alerting me to a call, and I was delighted to answer.  We talked for almost an hour, catching up on her new job and other news.  After the call, my attention was drawn by a blinking red light.  One that I was unfamiliar with. 

It was the gas light informing me I had 11 miles before an empty tank.  I quickly asked Siri to find the nearest gas station, which, to my dismay, was 9 miles away. Looking ahead, I was further dismayed to see construction delays ahead.  My nightmare of being stranded was coming to pass.  White knuckling and praying, I was able to finally pull up to a pump with 2 miles to spare. 

As I drove away from the gas station, both relieved and a bit ashamed, I wondered how such a thing could happen.  And I realized that I had been so focused on everyone else’s situation, I had forgotten about my own.

As someone who is called to help others, it’s hard for me to ask for help.  And that is not a strength; it is a flaw.  Self-care is not just taking time for yourself, doing things that make you happy and centered.  A precursor to self-care is self-awareness.  Sometimes it is easier to focus on the needs of others because it brings a sense of accomplishment and satisfaction.  But when you ignore your own signs of need, you’re no help to anyone.

In plane travel, the attendants announce that when cabin pressure drops, mothers should put on their masks before their children.  Everything about that statement seems counterintuitive.  Moms save their children first.  But I learned that if the parent does not make sure that they can receive oxygen first, they could pass out, and their child is left to fend for themselves. Using that analogy, I have to be aware when I am struggling and ask my support system for help, or I cannot truly help others.   I run out of gas. 

Surrounded by the beauty of nature, I should have allowed my mind to take in and enjoy the peacefulness.  Instead, I squandered that opportunity by working out solutions to problems that were not emergent and could have waited.  Perhaps if my mind weren’t so preoccupied, I would have noticed the tank indicator before it dipped so low.

Challenge to myself and others: Be aware of your gas tank.  Is it full, allowing you to forge ahead with the work that brings you happiness?  Or is your red light blinking?  Know yourself and focus on your own needs.   Don’t run out of gas.