Car Wash

I went to the car wash today.

The instructions said to stay in my car, keep the car in park, and stay in the car wash tracks. To stop when the red light went on and to go when the green light went on. That was it. That was all I had to do, and the car wash would take care of the rest.

I sat there enjoying my soft serve ice cream as the first droplets of water hit the windshield. The car was silent, with just the pitter-patter of the water on the sunroof. Then the large brushes approached from all sides, a storm of circular motion as the car rocked from side to side. It was loud and a little disruptive, yet I did nothing. But, of course, I didn’t have to do anything.

Instead, I stayed in my car, happily eating my soft serve, knowing that the car wash was doing what it was supposed to do. So I let the car wash do its job, and I did nothing.

It was a perfect metaphor for life lately. How easily we want to jump out of our car, out of our tracks, into the storm that is swirling around us to “help” someone else by offering unsolicited advice. How easily we make decisions thinking we know what is best just because we have seen it on a meme or a social media post.

I know nothing about car washes. I know absolutely nothing. But I know something about following directions and allowing those who know better to do their best. I am sure if the car wash technician needed any help at any time, they would have come into the car wash and asked me. But nothing was required; all I had to do was sit and enjoy my soft serve.

And what came of it? A sparkling clean car, a moment of serenity, and a life lesson that was almost as sweet as the soft serve.