I feel like this week’s newsletter is a filler episode. Like on Law and Order SVU where it’s just a regular ol’ serial killer episode and not the continuation of some underlying storyline or thematic thread. Maybe it’s because my week was pretty good, or maybe it’s because I even handled the bad parts in a healthy way, but I just feel like I need a week to be a little shallow. Or maybe I’ll get to writing and get carried away and end up in a pool of tears.
I’m reading John Maxwell’s How Successful People Grow for a group I’m in at church. At the end of one chapter, he challenges the reader to list ONE HUNDRED good things about themself. ONE HUNDRED. As usual, I skimmed the reflection prompt and wrote a handful of things, and moved on without actually following the instructions. This is a weakness of mine, not following instructions closely. But something brought me back to it, and I realized that I was woefully not even close to finishing the assignment. I’m a teacher’s pet, and so I sat there writing until the answers started to get stupid. I wrote as if John Maxwell himself was watching me. I was grasping at things like “good at using the air fryer” which led down a path of me just listing various appliances I am “good at using”.
It’s not that I don’t think good things about myself, it’s just that I ran out pretty quickly. I also noticed a tendency in my head to immediately follow praise of myself with a “but…” as if I had to internally qualify the statement or bring myself down a notch. If I wrote down “I’m a good public speaker”, I would think to myself “but, I’m not always good at communicating one-on-one”. “I’m a hard worker...but sometimes I am really lazy.” “I’m strong… but I’m not fast enough.” It’s a dangerous habit, and now that I’m mindful of it, I know need to work on it.
I got to about 20 things and called it quits. I decided I would spend the week noticing when I was good at something, instead of looking around my house for more appliances I’m skilled at operating. I thought about nice things others have said about me, and that got me a handful more. I remembered the nicest compliment I’ve ever received, from a friend who probably knows the messiest most broken parts of my soul, who said to me “you have gravity.” I try to remember that when my self-worth is very low.
Yesterday, a new thing popped into my head. I’m really REALLY good at car washes. I love car washes--especially the tunnels where your car gets pulled through. I am blessed to live in a city with a car wash that claims to have the world’s longest members-only car wash tunnel. It has laser lighting like a dance club near the end, and a guy dressed as the abominable snowman named “Saltsquatch” sprays your car with foam in the winter to ward off road-salt damage. It does not, unfortunately, have an in-car green-screen photo moment at the finale of the tunnel as my beloved hometown chain of car washes had.
Car washes make me feel like I’m back home in California, where some of my earliest memories are the supremo car washes where you watch your car move through the wash from inside the store. I remember pressing my face up against the giant glass windows as a kid, clutching a bag of Chili Cheese Fritos and a Cactus Cooler from the vending machine, and wondering whether the car was sad without us inside of it. One time I even cried because of the lonely car and didn’t even try explaining it to my parents because I thought they would tease me about it. Instead, I said my stomach hurt a little, and I went outside to wait for the workers to swing the little towel in the air that signifies you and the car are ready to be reunited.
My current car wash has a really impressive set of DIY detailing stations and all of the cleaners you could need. There are buckets of clean shammies, three different brushes for your carpets, two types of very powerful vacuums, and an air gun for blowing crud out of small spaces. High off the energy of a Peloton PR (thank you Alex Toussaint) in the morning and the smell of Pina Colada air freshener, I attacked my disgusting interior with every tool I had at my disposal. I took my time. I listened to nostalgia music in my own car (old Ben Folds Five. IYKYK), while simultaneously hearing Rap, Cumbia, and Country float through the air from the cars around me. I didn’t cut corners, because I had nowhere else I wanted to be at the moment. I was present and I was focused. On the heels of a busy week where work goals could feel amorphous and abstract, I needed something concrete to accomplish. The car wash was my self-care.
The car wash is The Great Equalizer. All of our messes and crumbs, out there for everyone to see. I can’t hide my disgustingness at the car wash. I do that all the other days I am NOT at the car wash, so this time is a respite. I fling my floor mats out of the car and beat them on the ground to shake out all of the dog hair. I throw piles of church mint wrappers into the garbage, along with about 4000 half-empty La Croix cans and two fistfuls of receipts. I blast the air gun into the crevices of the control panel where all the knobs and buttons hide my filth, and all of it comes blazing out at my face. Everyone around me does the same, no matter what kind of car they drive. BMWs and Kias and Toyotas and Teslas -- all of us wiping sticky substances out of our cup holders unabashedly, just trying to leave this car wash better than we came into it.
Isn’t that what we all deserve in community? To bring in our mess, clean it up together, and go out to do great things? We often say at church that God uses messy people. But I don’t believe that’s circumstantial. I believe it’s intentional. I think He uses messy people because our mess opens a door for other messy people to follow us into the car wash tunnel. Seeing other people’s authenticity gives me the courage to reveal all my grime and clean it up, and I hope that my vulnerability does the same for others. The great thing about God, and the great thing about a car wash, is that there is always a new opportunity to get it right. Always an opportunity to get clean, get saved, air out your staleness, and emerge on point.
Here are five good things I loved this week that served as a mental car wash:
A case for power napping
Add this to the list of things I’m good at: napping. I’m efficient—down and up quickly. Apparently, I need to go to Japan.
BACE Framework
Four simple areas to focus on when you’re feeling out of sorts.
https://www.abc.net.au/everyday/an-illustrated-guide-to-bace-self-care/12136186
Compassion Fatigue is real
CompassionFatigue.org has some straightforward resources for filling up your own cup. I saw this list while I was sitting in on a meeting of a health department in Florida. Print it out and slap it on the wall in front of your desk.
Casey Wilson
The Wreckage of my Presence is a book of essays about life, work, motherhood, Real Housewives, and mental health. Casey Wilson is a gem, and if you want a dose of vulnerability, this is your book.
Arrivederci!
I admit I spent too much time this week looking at Italian real estate sites for towns that are paying remote workers to move there.
https://www.cnn.com/travel/article/italy-towns-pay-remote-working-cmd/index.html
The best part is when you go to those sites and translate them into English, you get some real thoughtful phrases like “Move here to work in power and peace”.
I hope this week you make it to 100 good things about yourself.
xo,
Sarah
I always love how raw and honest these are! Thank you for sharing the BACE framework. You’re an amazing woman and I’m always inspired by you, your story, your honesty and your tenacity!
Also note that being skilled at a car wash is not easy. I have had them press the emergency stop button on me too many times.