Note: Over the last short while, I’ve received amazing feedback on my previous pieces about the path on which I find myself in rebuilding my faith and prosperity. I’m touched and humbled because, although I always aim to be transparent, these last few have been extremely personal and I was nervous about sharing. Your feedback has been reassuring; moreover I’m amazed by how many people feel the same. This column brings that journey to a stop sign — at least as far as things stand today. Thank you for coming along.
With that as backstory, we have two cars.
One was a 1997 Pontiac Sunfire; a low-end economy car with 122,000 miles. People oft-times are shocked when they hear I possess an 18-year-old auto with so few miles. They are thrown further back on their heels upon learning our second car, which is 19 years old, has merely 75,000 miles. (I joke that it still has its original tires.) What can I say? We walk a lot, and as you might remember, until a car hit me a few years ago, I rode my bike a great deal. In addition, we are loyal, not quick to discard that which is still usable.
Yet, driving to clients in a peeling grunting, clanking, banging automobile which wheezed and creaked more than a dilapidated, broken-down, gasping pipe organ not only gave me great concerns about safety, but — as vain as it may sound — didn’t fit the image I want to portray. Bottom line was I needed (and wanted) a new car. It was time. The problem is that in the last almost-two decades, the technology of cars has improved significantly. Yet, despite that, no one has figured out how to remove car payments. Sigh…
Putting forth my trusty mantra, “I live in a state of constant abundance;” I set forth on what would become a three-month journey to find the “perfect car.”
My “must haves” included late model, low mileage, minimum carbon footprint (hybrid or electric preferable), full safety package, comfortable ride, and a killer sound system. My “it-would-be-nice-to-have” file contained moon roof, navigation system, and a blue exterior. I immersed myself in “Car Buying 101,” visiting websites of every stripe, poring over reports, listening to car-talk shows and consumer advocates, and watching and studying advertisements. By the time I was getting close, I kid you not; I knew warranties, mileage, even wheelbases and exterior lengths of several preferred models. My ideal model, a Ford Fusion Hybrid, was out of my range but eventually I landed on something similar and was discussing money.
“What kinds of payment options are there?” I asked.
“Our finance manager is out right now,” said the salesperson. “Can I get that to you tomorrow?”
Having heard nothing in two days, I followed up. He apologized, again assuring “tomorrow.” I waited. One day. Two days. Three days. Crickets.
Frustrated in trying to “make it happen,” I mentally released the car and accepted it wasn’t supposed to be.
Hopping in my beater, I clanged and banged down the highway to another dealer who sold similar models.
As Kurt, the salesperson, got to know me, he said, “I know you came here looking for a certain model, but I think I have your perfect car. However, it’s from another manufacturer. Can I show it to you?”
I drove home in late model, low mileage, full safety package equipped, Ford Fusion Hybrid with a killer sound system, moon roof, and navigation system in the price range I planned. By the way, it’s blue.
More than buying a car — and I hope this doesn’t sound silly — it almost feels like this vehicle, the one I imagined on the beginning of this process, was “sent” to me, validating again my beliefs that if we make clear our intention and pursue it, that which we want and need makes itself known.
All we must do is believe and start the engine.
About the author: Scott “Q” Marcus is a nationally known expert who helps people change habits they don’t like for good. He will be conducting his monthly seminar, “Willpower 101″ at the Adorni Center in Eureka on July 25. Download a flyer about it at https://thistimeimeanit.com/WillPowerFlyer