The murmur of a soothing water
fountain, elegant furniture and interesting paintings on the wall set the mood
for relaxation in the reception area but my thoughts are elsewhere. Sitting
quietly in the tastefully appointed waiting room, I look at my watch.
I’m thinking, “hey, my session starts now.”
Part of taking care of me includes
therapeutic massage. Having no injuries, a particular therapy is not necessary,
just the demands of moving my body in various positions over and around a bike
while plying my trade make some muscles tense and occasionally sore.
The minutes tick by while I wonder
where my therapist is. A flood of thoughts occur about the projects ahead of
me. I’m glad I re-read that letter from the Harwood Museum of Art in Taos, New Mexico
and discovered that my submission to the upcoming show entitled “Pinstripe
Madera”, a skateboard deck I've been putting a special paint job on, is due
right now. The paint job with old school metal flake, gilding, pinstriping and
an image of a stunning Indian girl is complete. I mentally compose some
appropriate correspondence and realize I’d better get the finish coats of clear
on it and get it ready to ship.
A hand decorated cigar box is ready
to mail to a special friend, one more confirmation will establish the pinstriping
route full through Halloween, a quick note of encouragement to my brother in
law is ready, along with the schematic for the new rig to take to the upcoming
conversations in Elkhart.
At ten minutes past nine the receptionist
comes in to tell me that the therapist is running late. She expects her to be
there in another ten minutes. I get up from my comfortable chair, mention that
I have stuff that needs to get to the post office and head out the door. I’m
thinking that the post office is just across the street. Leaving and headed to
the van, I’m not impressed with the conduct experienced and wonder about the soundness
of the idea of getting a massage with all that has to be done. I text my friend
Jeff at Iron Pit Restorations to ask if I can come over and clear coat my
skateboard deck at his shop.
One thing I have to be grateful for,
due to the ever changing demands of life at the mercy of the variety of
situations that can happen while working outdoors and on the road is having learned
to be flexible.
As I drive the van back to the rig after
the visit to the post office and put the finishing touches on a commissioned
logo for a riding club, I discard the idea of returning for my massage. The
occasional day between events is supposed to provide a window to get some rest,
but there are always a bunch of loose ends to tie up. So I get busy in the
office responding to emails, getting another exciting episode of “Tales of a Traveling
Airbrush” ready to go, get another task list upgraded before heading to Jeff’s
shop to put the finish clear on the Art Show entry.
The deck is painted using the same
color scheme as the Letterfly “Wild West “ show bike and I write a letter to
the curators of the show, bouncing the idea of an additional inclusion in their
show of the pinstripers art.
While I switch gears, I mentally
validate the episode encountered as another source of inconvenience and unnecessary
expense. I recall a recent unfortunate experience at the hand of another, that
cost me plenty, due to lack of integrity.
I think back to this spring and the
experience of the bike not starting. The diagnosis at the first service facility
was the problem was due to my having added some special marine fuel (that was
supposed to be an upgrade with longevity, compared to the rapidly decomposing
gasoline of today) to the tank that ended up fouling the fuel pump. The debacle
resulted in a repeat of the same problem that required a second motorcycle
service provider in another location along my route, costing several weeks of down
time for the bike and a pile of money.
In Gettysburg, Pennsylvania
during the two weeks I was there, prior to entering into a service transaction
with Cody and Nate at Moto-Tech, I explained that I had to have the bike back prior
to my departure on Sunday, when I must leave for Virginia. They assured me that they would
diagnose and fix the bike by that time no problem. On Friday I received the
surprise news that my sister had passed away after a brief but severe illness.
Later, the call about the bike confirmed that the fuel in the tank was again the
culprit for the no start problem. After asking Cody what would be the best
thing to do, he recommended that the tank be drained and filled with fresh
racing fuel, a fuel that has a longer shelf life. While on the phone with him,
I commissioned the additional work to be done. Not able to sleep that night, at
two in the morning, due to the tragic demise of my sister, I was searching
around on the internet for a flight to Pensacola
to attend the funeral. No additional phone calls came from Moto-Tech Saturday but
I was confident due to the assurance I had received from them and trusted that
by Sunday I would have my bike, be satisfied and on my way.
On Sunday, the last day of providing
my pinstriping services at Battlefield Harley-Davidson I wondered about my bike
and called Moto-Tech to listen to a recording that announced they were closed and
would also be closed on Monday. Now that I had a plane to catch on Tuesday morning
in Richmond, I
had no choice. I had to begin the trip to Virginia as scheduled, make an arrangement
to park the rig somewhere prior to the HOG rally and bob tail to the airport
and catch my flight.
Integrity is doing what you say you
are going to do. I was taught as a child and later, as an apprentice to my
trade this valuable ethic. As I watch children misbehave with their parents
that have no handle on effective discipline, I wonder where integrity is in
this country has gone. Now the debacle of the no-start bike has another chapter
caused by not doing what they said they would do. After load out, I started the
truck and headed south. Aimed out of Pennsylvania,
I pondered my options; find someone willing to either ride the bike or trailer
it for me to the HOG rally in Virginia,
return to pick up the bike myself in September when I return from the Midwest, or maybe sell it for full price to
Moto-Tech. I mentioned my predicament in
a news update to my friends on face book in an effort to compose a solution.
I became aware of fearful thinking while
sitting in the Charlotte
airport waiting for my connecting flight, interrupted the dismal thoughts and raised
this problem up in prayer and elected to let it go and trust God. A little
later, a phone text revealed someone that would have the ability to pick it up
for ten bucks an hour and gas. Soon immersed in conversations with various
friends, I used my community to help with the problem that I have been gifted
with, while I redirected my attention to the family function. All this unnecessary
effort was now required due to lack of integrity.
While reviewing these options to get
my bike, I get a call from Cody at Moto-Tech to tell me that bike was ready.
When I reminded him that I had been assured that the bike would be ready prior
to my departure, he mentioned that it was. He then announced that he assumed
that I knew the length of time that the procedure of draining a tank and
filling it with fresh fuel took, so he didn’t call me when it was ready. Since I have never done this procedure and I
don’t have any way of knowing how long it would take, I had extended the consideration
of allowing them to comfortably fit this task into their schedule, trusting
them to also be appropriate with me. Part of completing every service task includes
the courtesy call to inform the customer that the task is complete. Since he
caused the problem, I then asked him to bring me the bike or at least
participate with creating a solution. I didn’t have the ability to return to Pennsylvania after the
HOG rally due to having only two days to get to Wisconsin for Wing Ding. I was met with
belligerence. The less than compassionate service provider now wanted to be
paid in full and refused to participate in the solution to the problem that he
created.
The response from Face book did get a
conversation started with my biker friends in the Shenandoah area and while I
was at the funeral service in Florida,
I got a call from GP and Deana who had my pinstriping on several of their
bikes, a show truck and a mailbox. He understood the severity of my dilemma and
drove up to Pennsylvania
to be of help, was at Moto-Tech, waiting, ready to load the bike on his
trailer.
Being impeccable with our word is just
one aspect of being that which is the most useful to our fellowman. But not
everybody is on the same path. Some people remain only able to see things from
a self centered perspective, a perspective that fuels justification, rather
than objective investigation of our behavior. I can only hope that Cody and
Nate learn from their mistakes, become stewards of their word and develop
regard for their customers, the source of their abundance and interrupt the
defeatist strategy now in effect.
Behaving in a way that demonstrates
regard for others is the purpose I was designed for. Now inconvenienced, fortunately
I have friends willing to come to the rescue to be grateful for, and a service
provider to forgive for the huge inconvenience he produced due to his lack of integrity.
My question remains; how could he close up shop Saturday night knowing what he
promised to me as the doors were locked with my bike still inside?
Jesus demonstrated being the “lamb,”
calmly submitting to his suffering, the agony produced by others, as a way to
show us how to rise above the mainstream mentality of thinking only about
ourselves and sometimes unintentionally hurting another due to our distractions,
and instead keep our focus on our higher purpose. Hurt people hurt people. Enlightened
people reach out to help their fellowman up.
As I look at the corpse of my sister
in that elegant church filled with spectacular artwork, I reviewed our past
life, starting with her as my first friend in the frustrating household we were
born into and realized she had never gotten the message that she was beautiful
inside and that god loves her. The turbulence in our house and later at school
affected our self esteem and as children we adopted many ways to cope.
Fortunately, I had begun to receive healing from the impact of these childish attempts
at survival in adulthood, after our estrangement had grown. One of the last
conversations I had with my sister had to do with her grudge against my father that
had fueled her lifetime pursuit of proving him wrong, an obsession that kept
her trapped in self reliance and separated from the ability to be contributed
to from outside and producing the self inflicted illusion of her being right.
A year ago, the resentment that had
occurred in me as the result of her taking liberties with the desires of my
mother for certain items in her estate had begun to take me down a similar
lonely road. I could feel becoming separated from the sunshine of the spirit
and fortunately wanted again, the peace and serenity that I have found. By
working with my spiritual mentor to heal my resentment and broken-heartedness,
becoming familiar with my behavior in the past and the tainted thinking I had
produced in response to her actions, I could enter into an attempt at forgiveness
for her behavior and make amends for my thinking and remaining separate from
her. A formal letter was written, scrutinized by my mentor and when ready, sent
to my sister. The correspondence that followed revealed that she was still
expecting a fight.
Her lifeless body now serves as a
testimony to the futility of not forgiving another, staying mad for decades and
not letting go of everything that interferes with our connection to God and
others. I get the message loud and clear.
The whirlwind trip to the funeral was now a month ago – I was
emotionally drained by the time I returned to the HOG Rally and was happy to
see my bike intact at the venue. I then became immediately busy. Many friends
made a special point to provide a word of comfort to me while I worked. My
travels since then have turned particularly picturesque, especially the drive
over the mountains and up into the Midwest
yielding wonderful experience after wonderful experience in the heartland of
this country. The task in front of me is clear - enjoy the moment that I am in
now and let go of anything that interferes.
As I forgive Cody and Nate for all
the grief that was created due to not completing their part of the procedure, I
avoid passing judgment that will only get me just as stuck as my sister and
keep my focus on what I can do that is positive to be a blessing to the people
around me.
As I switch gears on this post card
picture perfect day, hanging out with my friends in Indiana at Iron Pit
Restorations, ready to add another coat of clear to the skateboard, the phone
rings.
“This is Dawn at That’s the Rub Massage
Therapy Center,”
she begins, “I feel awful about the experience you had this morning.”
I remained silent, not knowing where
this is going.
“I talked it over with the boss,” she
continued, “and we want you to return to get a free massage”
The pages of yesterday cannot be
revised. But today this page is blank and I hold the pen. By allowing others
their flawed behavior and rising above to trust that all is just the way it is
supposed to be, by staying centered in confidence that all is well, I get to experience
a universe that remains filled with abundance. We radiate the script of the day
we are going through. Let’s make this day something positive, loving and memorable
for everyone else.
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