Why Your Anxiety is Probably Unwarranted

I used to have a phobia. Any time a warning light began to blink on the dashboard of my car, a low black cloud descended upon me and I began to sink into anxiety and depression.

Photo Credit: State Farm, Creative Commons

My mind filled with worst-case scenarios, emptying my bank account.

There was a time in my life (let’s just call it my Denial Decade) when I would put a piece of black tape over the blinking light so I wouldn’t have to deal with it.

The reason for all this anxiety was this:

I knew absolutely nothing about anything that resides under the hood of a car. (For years I thought a McPherson Strut was some kind of Irish dance.) Thus, whenever I took my car in for repairs, I had this look on my face that says to the mechanic,

“Take my money. Take all of my money. I’m stupid about cars and if you tell me my deliberator needs to be replaced, I’ll say, ‘OK.’”

Over the years, my problem with warning lights grew worse and worse.

It didn’t help when I went to a dealership last year and they told me it would cost about $1200 to get the blinking light to turn off.

That was the day I decided to get a second opinion.

At a friend’s recommendation, I went to Mickey at Bob’s Automotive.

It’s a little garage with two stalls a few miles from my house. It’s the kind of place that has out-of-date calendars on the wall, some car magazines on the counter, and a few old chairs in the waiting area.

A person could die of second hand smoke in a few minutes.

Sheepishly, I walked in and told Mickey that not one but two lights were on and it looked really bad. Then, out of habit, I gave him my wallet and my really nice watch. He gave them back, looked at me with kind eyes and said:

“I’ll take a look and call you in a little while.”

My blood pressure shot up.

An hour later Mickey called my office. “Mr. Andrews, your car is fixed,” he said. “A plastic trash bag blew up under your car and melted on a sensor, causing it to go a little crazy. I scraped it off and everything’s fine.”

“How much?” I asked as I sat down to prepare myself for the bad news.

“Oh, there’s no charge for that. Come on over and get it when you’re ready.”

I’ve taken my car to Mickey ever since.

My anxiety about blinking lights has ceased. In fact, the other day, a light went off. It was the engine light. And instead of panicking, I calmly drove to Bob’s and left them the car.

“No need to call me with an estimate. Just do the work and I’ll pick it up this afternoon.”

As soon as I said it, I realized something had changed. I wasn’t worried about money. I wasn’t worried about being cheated. I knew my car and I both were in good hands.

I wonder if that’s what happens when people treat us with integrity.

When we put ourselves around safe people, we realize no matter what happens, we’re going to be okay.

Something in us rests and breathes deeply, as we welcome kindness like parched ground welcomes a summer rain.

We’re all braced to be ripped off, to be treated poorly, to be used, trampled on, and judged. That’s the way it often goes in this world. But sometimes my cynicism needs a good slap in the face in order to wake me up to what is good and right and true.

Now and then a light shines brightly.

I hope you find a bright, shining light in your life today, even if it’s in an unlikely place.