Turning the wheel…


I looked at my car tonight, thinking how beautiful her lines are in my eyes. She is, undoubtedly, past her best, her engine is a little tired and uneconomical to bring back to optimum performance, the work she needs no longer financially viable, at least for me. Really, she needs an enthusiast to spend time and skill with her to bring her back to what she should be.

I can feel the road through her chassis, every bump, every mile, every bend. This is not necessarily be a good thing, you may say. You are probably right. I quite like it. She responds to me and she, the road and I have a wonderfully intimate relationship.

Virtually anything will pass us on a fast road these days, not because she isn’t capable of speed, but because, being a little old lady, I am gentle with her. She is robust, reliable and very special to me for many reasons. But, I know that one day very soon, she and I will have to part company. I cannot afford to do her justice.

Yet, of course, I love the little old lady. I cannot imagine getting rid of her and replacing her with something newer, possibly more practical, with less miles on the clock and an engine I can play with. Even though I know I would enjoy a car with, perhaps, greater comfort, better performance and with roof seals that don’t leak on me when the rain comes at a specific angle.

This car fits me like a glove. She cuddles me when I drive her and I get a thrill of joy every time I get behind her rather shabby wheel, even now, after so many years and tens of thousands of miles. Another car? I cannot imagine it.

Have you ever wondered how much our emotions and fears are based on imagination? We anticipate a scenario in our minds, peopling it with characters and scripting in fantasy what they are going to say, yet when reality actually arrives, nine times out of ten, it is utterly different from what we have pictured.

We then enter these imagined situations in a state of predetermined terror, feeling a very real fear, physically and emotionally, and we react accordingly. We may find ourselves, depending on our nature, being deliberately on either the offensive or defensive, intent upon meeting head on a situation that exists, in fact, only within our own minds.

The spider doesn’t eat us whole, the dentist is not a homicidal maniac, the interviewer not bent wholly on uncovering every skeleton in our family closet. The new car may, in fact, be a joy.

Yet we build these fears for ourselves with utter familiarity and, quite frequently, an absolute disregard for logic.

Odd, isn’t it?

We manage to convince ourselves of awful and terrible possibilities without the slightest hesitation. Yet a modicum of common sense would show how ridiculous we are being.

Then, of course, there is the obverse effect which we seldom notice, let alone use. How about if we harness that same power of imagination to create positive scenarios? We do it occasionally, even though we don’t realise it.

Christmas morning as a child is filled with excited anticipation. So is a first date, a long awaited reunion, the birth of a child… Here, too, we see ourselves in imagination right inside the situation, revelling in the moment and the gift of joy that it brings. We have already decided the outcome of the event before it begins, consequently we go into it already feeling the predicted emotion and handle the situation in a far more positive manner.

So, instead of looking at what I will miss about my little car, I am going to start looking at all the things I shall enjoy about her replacement, starting with how nice it will be to be able to use the accelerator pedal with confidence and panache, rather than gentle concern.

I have had and driven a good many cars over the years, This little baby is the first one that ever captured my heart. My first love affair with wheels. Who knows, I may fall in love with the new one when I find it, all over again, and find, that like any first love, the next is better, deeper, stronger, and the last is the best of all.




Book One of the Triad of Albion

Stuart France & Sue Vincent

The Initiate is the story of a journey beyond the realms of our accustomed normality.

It is a true story told in a fictional manner. In just such a way did the Bards of old hide in the legends and deeds of folk heroes, those deeper truths for those ‘with eyes to see and ears to hear’.

Don and Wen, two founding members of a new Esoteric School, meet to explore an ancient sacred site, as a prelude to the School’s opening event. The new School is to be based upon a nine-fold system and operate under the aegis of the Horus Hawk.

The trip does not unfold as planned.

Instead, Don and Wen, guided by the birds, find themselves embarking upon a journey that will lead them through a maze of spiritual symbolism, to magical mysteries and the shadowy figure of the Ninth Knight.

As the veils thin and waver, time shifts and the present is peopled with shadowy figures of the past, weaving their tales through a quest for understanding and opening wide the doors of perception…

Now available via Amazon worldwide.

Paperback UK     Kindle UK    Paperback Amazon.com    Kindle Amazon.com

About Sue Vincent

Sue Vincent is a Yorkshire-born writer and one of the Directors of The Silent Eye, a modern Mystery School. She writes alone and with Stuart France, exploring ancient myths, the mysterious landscape of Albion and the inner journey of the soul. Find out more at France and Vincent. She is owned by a small dog who also blogs. Follow her at scvincent.com and on Twitter @SCVincent. Find her books on Goodreads and follow her on Amazon worldwide to find out about new releases and offers. Email: findme@scvincent.com.
This entry was posted in Life, Love and Laughter, Spirituality and tagged , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

12 Responses to Turning the wheel…

  1. waynelaw says:

    There is nothing like the first automobile that steals your heart…I still dream about my long lost chevette. May she rust in peace 🙂

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Don says:

    “So, instead of looking at what I will miss about my little car, I am going to start looking at all the things I shall enjoy about her replacement.” I changed my car not so long ago. I had my old one for fourteen years so it was filled with memories. I found it extremely difficult to let go off. I think one has to honour these feelings – they are real. So I agree with you about changing your perspective about it all, but I think we must allow ourselves to feel the loss because that’s real. Loved your post, Sue – full of truth. Thank you..

    Liked by 1 person

  3. Sue Vincent says:

    Yes, Don, there are memories here too I will not forget in a lifetime. Change, however, is life, so I will cherish the memories.. those I will not lose, and head onwards to make new ones.

    Liked by 1 person

  4. Heru's Light says:

    Sounds promising Sue 😉 Let me know when you find that new car; it’ll have a lot to live up to x

    Liked by 1 person

  5. We are being forced to consider replacing our 24 year old Honda with another or something comparable. Old Alvin came to us after my husband’s mother died– it was her car. So lots of attachment there but safety issues are at stake. I will miss him and am scared of a replacement. Such is life.

    Liked by 1 person

  6. ksbeth says:

    i think about my young love, and i imagined then i would never get over him, and now love is a very different thing to me, but that first love will have left an impression forever.

    Liked by 1 person

  7. I share your feelings towards your “old lady”. We had an old, little red Suzuki. It was so small we sometimes did not find it on the parking area, because it was hiding behind all those big, pompous cars. On the road bigger cars got offended when we overtook them, and soon they speeded up and went in front of us. We had to sell the car in the end, because we really needed a bigger car for our longer trips. – I actually think – in these times of consumerism – that it’s not so bad if we find it hard to give away old stuff, and don’t want to buy new. Unless it is, of course, necessary.

    Liked by 1 person

    • Sue Vincent says:

      I agree with you, Maarit.. and I would not be buying a ‘new’ car, just something a little newer, perhaps.. and I shall hope my old girl goes to someone who will love and restore her as she deserves.

      Liked by 1 person

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