To Kill a Car

Last weekend, some part of my psyche decided I should crunch my car instead of attend Creighton’s commencement ceremony. Yes, I got in an accident right outside the Civic Center at 9a.m. Luckily, no one was hurt. Except our cars. And my pocketbook. And my emotions.

I suppose if the cars had been horribly mangled, I would just be happy to be alive. But, the cars weren’t mangled, just dented fenders and front wheels pushed into the suspension. So, instead of thanking God for our safety, I am kicking myself, bemoaning the $1500 or more I will pay for the repairs plus the likely increase in my insurance rates for the next 5 years. Psychologists would say I am suffering from the hindsight bias, the tendency to see past events as more predictable than they were in fact before they took place. “I knew it all along” is more common when events are easily undone mentally. We get more upset if we miss a connecting plane by 5 minutes after running through the airport than if we land 45 minutes after the connection departed. We are especially likely to fall victim to the hindsight bias if it is easy for us to mentally “undo” an outcome that befalls us. If only I had not decided to turn onto Chicago, I would not have gotten into that accident. Sigh. Hindsight bias.

In terms of my faith life, this event gives me more fodder for discernment. (Actually, everything that happens in our lives gives us fodder for discernment; we just have to desire to allow God more and more into what happens in our lives.) Should I repair the car or get a different one? Ignatian discernment focuses on three methods depending on how active your emotions are. In this case, my emotions were quite active and so I used the primary method of discernment where I considered my alternatives, prayed about them and relied on the gut feelings I had as I sat with each alternative.

Fix the car or get a different one? When I reflected on fixing my car, I worried that perhaps I was too attached to this car. My immediate reaction was I should fix it. But, even the body shop guy said it was not worth fixing. So, I looked through several used auto sales booklets from the grocery store. I could not get excited about any car I saw. No make or model appealed to me. Every pricetag made me feel nauseous. That last reaction, feeling nauseous, was a strong gut reaction. Over time, this did not go away. It remained from beginning to the end, a sign of desolation.

Overall, I’ve learned that I am overly attached to this car. But, even though this is true, now is also not the time to spend several thousands of dollars to get a different one. In the end, I decided to fix the car enough to make it drivable, but not enough to make it aesthetically appealing again. As time passes, this decision continues to sit well and to “feel right,” which is a sign of consolation. But, I still wish I had not killed my car!!