My Ford Oracle

Around the new year, I had a startling experience in the parking lot of our local mall. It was mid-day, sunny and bright. Key in, brake off, pulling away... and I felt my right foot fall forward. Pumping nothing but air several times, I looked down to see that I no longer HAD an accelerator pedal. It was literally lying on the floor, looking as useful as packing peanuts the day after Christmas.

There was no time to make sense of it - wherever my car stopped, it would stay. So I slowly pulled to a space a distance away from other vehicles and pressed my brakes.

"I've never seen this happen before," said the tow truck driver, the mechanic and the nice man walking by. No kidding. I won't bore you with details. A simple cable broke. But it would take several days to fix over the holiday weekend.

This meant none of the usual "busyness" for me - no errands, no gym, no post office. No bank deposit, no dinner with the girls, no grocery store. I had been moving at mock speed for quite a while... neglecting yoga and writing in lieu of holiday parties, a wedding, too much work and recently a new freelance project, and a quasi intriguing new dating prospect.

The quiet allowed me to think about how I spent my days, and for that matter, how I wanted to spend my future days.

Once my car was returned, I lurched back onto the freeway of life, gaining speed. But I did make some changes: stepping down from a board that no longer fed me, trading shifts of after-work events with a colleague, and within a month and a half... making the life-altering decision to leave my home in Connecticut to return to California where I grew up.

This was a big one. Some days that decision feels right - other days I question it to its core. Why leave the only "true" home I have ever known? Am I heading for a new adventure or running from my fear of complacency? Can I really break up with Connecticut while I am still so in love with her?

And thus was my state of fear and longing when my car once again "spoke." I arrived at my girlfriend's house two days ago and smelled something hot near the front of the hood. Oh god. Now, as I tend towards paranoia, my friend lovingly suggested that I wait until the following day to panic. Good plan. The next day, the faint odor became a reeking burning rubber and scorched asbestos stench. Probably nothing.

This morning, my mechanic explained that my left front caliper froze in the locked position, burning through a significant portion of my brake pad and hose. In other words... even as my foot pressed on the accelerator, moving me towards any and all destinations... my brakes were on.

Of course. The life metaphor. The Ford Oracle. The hatchback soothsayer.

I get it - I haven't fully opened her up on the roads and said, YES... let's do this thing! Let's go to California and see what she has in store for me. Rather, I acquiesced to a series of road bumps and said, OhnnnKayyy - I'll go... like a grumpy six year old not ready for bed.

I know that now is the time to embrace the free-fall and let the road take me. Brakes off. Pedal down. Shifting to a higher gear... with a giant smile on my face. And we're OFF!