Schrodinger’s Car

A few days ago, I was in a car accident.

Bad weather, black ice, and a sudden application of the brakes from the car in front of me, and that was that.  It’s much more detailed than that, of course, but as there are tickets involved, one of which I intend to fight in court, I will say no more, just in case.

The assessment from the insurance company is due to happen tomorrow, though, and that, along with a few other, unrelated matters will determine my decision: new car, repairs on the old, or maybe even a third option: no car at all, at least for a while.

Until I hear from the assessors, all possibilities and no possibilities exist at the same time.

Schrodinger’s Car.

Repairing my old Sunfire would be covered by insurance, but then, she is nearly a decade old and already needing quite a bit of high maintenance.

She is my first car and we’ve shared a lot of adventures – from my time as Chapter President at McMaster, driving around Westdale waving our Fraternity flag out the window and that first long trip to Nova Scotia in 2005 where I got engaged to driving me to the wedding and every adventure I’ve had since with jobs and writing and divorce and re-creating myself – so it would be sad to let her go, but maybe for the best.  Still, if the assessors believe she can be salvaged, I may have no choice but to just keep driving her, albeit with far more care and granny-like attention (Slow Lane, here we come!).

I could also, theoretically, lease a new car for now, though my current work situation may prevent that unless some dealership somewhere was willing to do me a favour.  There’s also the option of getting a used clunker, though if I had to go that route, I may as well keep my Sunfire for at least one more winter.

Yet still, if the assessors do write her off altogether, or if I decide to sell her to some poor high school student needing a first ride, then I have a third option: no car at all.  This would be problematic, as the bus routes to my current work at the bookstore take quite a bit of time out of the day and aren’t very friendly to store schedules.  Then again, having no car means having no costs for insurance, no fuel, and no maintenance costs, meaning that whatever I do make, I could save up, or use to pay debt, until I end up working full-time again.

(Or get an advance: let’s not forget that possibility.  That’s what I’m doing all this for, after all)

Uncertainty isn’t something I’ve dealt with particularly well in the past, but on this one, I should be way more worried and anxious than I am.  Maybe it’s because I have plans to deal with all three of these possibilities.

But could the lack of worry also be due to the Vision Board?

Magical Thinking?

If you believe in non-empirical forces like the Law of Attraction enough to have something like a Vision Board, you might be 50/50 on whether or not you can jinx your intentions just by talking about them.

For me, if the intention, faith that the intention will happen, and taking the actions necessary to fulfill it are all in sync, there’s nothing mystical about it. It’s just basic manifestation that we do everyday, whether it’s making a latte or a hundred bucks. And no amount of talking about it can jinx it.

The only thing that separates Vision Boarding from just doing things is that you can’t always see the mechanism at work, so empiricists declare it’s all a bunch of superstitious nonsense or “magical thinking”.  Either way, though, the results tend to be the same.

But visions that work always start with a leap of faith, with you allowing yourself a little game of make-believe that you’ve already got it.  What would it feel like?  Vision Board creators are supposed to put themselves into that feeling of having it now before they start cutting and glueing.  That triggers the Law of Attraction, and then, according to your perception, things “start to happen”.  In reality, it’s most likely that you start subconsciously doing things to pave the way for the results, but, again, I don’t see the process at work, so I have no idea.

But I can’t deny that two Thursdays ago, I put a picture of a new Hyundai Sonata, like the one I drove in California, on my Vision Board.  Six days later, my Sunfire was in a crash.  Maybe a bonafide case of post hoc, ergo propter hoc?  I dunno.

The accident, while definitely NOT my intention, did open up the possibility of a new car.  It also spurred me to get some other things done that I’d been putting off, largely due to worry about cost and, interestingly enough, the possibility of losing my car.  After an initial burst of anxiety and self-loathing and sadness after the accident, I’m now finding that events are starting to flow nicely again.

I would like to believe the Vision Board theory, because it means everything else I’ve put on it – including becoming a successful, published author, getting stable finances, traveling the world, and finding my soul mate – are also currently in progress behind the scenes.  But I’d rather hold off judgment, indeed all judgment, until I know for sure what my options are.

The Parable of the Wise Farmer

There’s a New Age parable about a wise farmer who loses a horse when the animal runs away from the ranch. Before sending his two sons to go find it, the neighbours say “Oh, that’s such an awful thing that you lost your horse.”

The farmer looks at them and says, “Are you sure?”

The two sons return later with not only the runaway stallion, but also three more wild horses they had found and subdued.  The neighbours tell the farmer, “That’s some good fortune!”

The farmer looks at them and says, “Are you sure?”

Three days later, while trying to break one of the new wild horses, the youngest son is trampled and breaks three of his ribs.  The neighbours tell the farmer “Oh, so terrible!”

The farmer looks at them and says, “Are you sure?”

Two days later, the Army recruiters visit to conscript new soldiers for a bloody war they are currently fighting.  The farmer’s eldest son has already served, so they have come looking for the youngest, but upon discovering his injuries, they exempt him from service and move on.  Later on, it turns out nearly all the young men recruited in the farmer’s village are killed in the war.  The neighbours say, “What great fortune it was.”

The farmer, as always, looks at them and says, “Are you sure?”

It makes little sense calling events “good” or “bad” in isolation, because they’re just leading the way to something new, and we don’t know how they will turn out.  Even the fulfillment of all my Vision Board intentions will simply lead to new chains of cause-and-effect, new possibilities, and new dreams.  And I look forward to them all, I really do.

I’m glad I was able to get this out.  This was my last chance.  Tomorrow, the assessors should be giving me call, and that’s when I’ll know which way this goes.

Until then, it’s repair the car, get a new car, have no car at all.

Three choices.  Existing and not existing at the same time.

Schrodinger’s Car.

Honestly, how often does anyone get to use those words in the same sentence?

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One thought on “Schrodinger’s Car

  1. A wise man once said … “She’ll hold together. Hear me, baby? Hold together!” 🙂
    Luckily (or not?) for you, the Sunfire isn’t the Millennium Falcon.

    Good Luck Buddy, however it works out it’ll be a step in the right direction.

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