Adios Tacoma (not the one in Washington)

"Healing isn’t about acquiring something outside of yourself. Healing is about returning to your natural state." - some instagram influencer 

When I bought my truck, I felt empowered. It was some symbol of so many things. My achievements in career. Taking care of myself and tow things without needing to borrow a truck. Impressing men who think that a woman driving a truck is a novelty. Making my own money and spending it however I saw fit. Being able to think for myself. 

It’s interesting how often I fall into these traps. These traps of proving myself. You’d think that by now I’d learn. You’d think I’d already know that owning someTHING, buying someTHING, or identifying with someTHING would be a trap. Yet, I often forget.

For all I know I may be repeating another loop of this trap right now in my obsession with disowning things. Career, relationships, stuff, money, and….the truck.

Today I sold my truck, my beloved Tacoma. I don't name cars, so much like my other vehicles, it never had a name. Turns out that truck held some real power for me. It was my first ever BRAND NEW vehicle. It had every bell and whistle I wanted. It was LUNAR ROCK (iykyk). It was my dream vehicle.

And I could not be more relieved to be rid of it. I bought something older, less expensive, and more modest.

The thing about giving a THING so much power is that often there’s some (often made up) meaning behind it to produce such a power. I think for me, the truck was a status symbol. Which is something I fucking hate to admit, but at the same time is totally real and is probably true for many, many people. But I am okay admitting it because the admission is helping me shift from some pretty intense cognitive dissonance that had grown so enormous that I was unable to bear its weight for another moment. Time to have more resonance and less dissonance! 

Oh, I should back up and share another big announcement. Yesterday was my last day at my corporate job. The job that I used to pay for the truck that I bought to feel better about going to the corporate job I hated. Corporate greed and big trucks definitely go hand in hand, so maybe I was just a victim of the culture. But shouldn’t I have known better? 

I want to shame myself and say that I should have known better than to get stuck in the greed trap! After all, I have not only been warned but also been witness to what happens when one tries to fill the proverbial ‘hole in the soul’ with anything that is a temporary sustenance (e.g., relationships, mind altering substances, goods and services). 

Thus, my cognitive dissonance. Because, you see, when I am not concerned about the feeling of nothingness (the hole*) inside of me, I am someone who cares about sustainability and gratitude and giving back and humility. 

* The hole refers to the thing that we are all constantly trying to fill with something outside of us. I first tried to fill the hole by drinking alcoholically. Then, I thought I filled the hole when I got sober 15 years ago by finding god (sobriety has remained, but the god thing only lasted a short bit). Then, I thought I filled it when I became celibate a year ago (for the millionth time). The hole is now something that cannot be filled, even by avoiding basically anything that makes me feel good simply because I am the type of person who takes things that feel good and uses them like a damn drug until I’m a ghost of my former self, it is just a hole that perpetually exists inside of me.