I am a very generous person, so I’m told. I will give you the shirt off my back. I will open my house to you. I will let you borrow anything from my closet. I will buy you what you need, I will loan you money. But if you ask to borrow my truck, I will say no.
I will drive you wherever you want to go, I will rent you your own truck, but you cannot have mine. And because of this I feel selfish. I should want to help you, right? That’s what friends do for each other. But I can’t give over the keys. Why?
It took me until recently to understand this perplexing behavior of mine. But I do understand it now. You can’t have my truck because my personal vehicle is my refuge. My safe haven. My place of solitude if I choose it to be, or my place to blast my music. Not the music the kids like, or my husband likes, but the music I like.
I can turn the volume up or down as I see fit. I decide if I want air-conditioning, or open windows. I decide how fast or slow I will travel, where I will go and which route I will take to get there. Behind the wheel of my personal vehicle I am in control of my life.
When I get stressed out or frustrated, I go for a drive. If I argue with my husband, I clear my head in my vehicle. It is my ticket to freedom. It is where I do my best thinking, my meditating, I solve the world’s problems from the time it takes me to get from here to the grocery store and back.
So in the interest of world peace, please don’t ask to borrow my truck…