Control. Yeah, right!
Trucking was exactly what I needed when the last straggling video jobs petered out. The new job was safe, the pay slips were like clockwork, the hours were predictable, benefits ample. I was given the pointers I needed by the lifers in the yard to make it past the starting line, and I got to recognize my crude prejudices by being immersed in another America. Not that intellectual and liberal island life I felt so comfortable with. This was the flag waving, steel toe boots, reflector vests... America.
I appreciate crusty Cory for bringing me a lumber guide book from home after naming me the idiot (that I was). I appreciate dispatch master Mike for checking every strap and load I ever delivered. I appreciate Perry for giving me a job without so much as an hour on-the-road experience. I appreciate Dave for his political passion and humor (how dramatically we disagree!). I appreciate Terry for his kindness and Christ passion (repeat..how dramatically we disagree!). I appreciate John for changing the atmosphere of blame into one of collegiality. Lots to appreciate. Appreciate my fellow drivers Rob and Don. Grumpy Don being the most abrasive human I have ever kinda loved.
On day one, with zero experience and a slightly snarky 'whatever' attitude, I was entrusted with the muscular Peterbilt, saddled with a very cool forklift. Undeniably though I felt some shame around switching identities from filmmaker to truck driver. Come to think of it, I have some shame around the shame I felt back then. And right now I am feeling shame around feeling shame around the shame I felt then. Right, that horse is dead. Stop whipping it Laurance.
A few more mentionable gifts from these last years; pay stubs made the mortgage possible, mortgage made the farm happen, farm made the rental homes happen, rental homes enabled the life coaching passion to bud into reality. So much so that after 3 years and ten thousand daylight hours consumed on the road, I am ready to take my coaching practice full throttle. Here comes the plug.... Awesome coach at www.laurancecoachesme.com
When I pull back and look at the arc of my own story, when I feel into the excitement of opening a new door and catch that spark of adventure heading along an intriguing new alleyway, I sometimes even believe that I am in control. Yes, I can resign from the lumber yard and launch my coaching practice. Isn't that control?! Yeah right. Control? No way. The best laid plans... It is useful though, in situating my north star at the cross hairs.
How about this out of control story? Last year, my daughter had her batmitzvah and as is the family tradition, I get to introduce the kids post bar/batmitzvah to their heritage and family in Israel. We go on a trip together. Meet the family. See the sites. Swim. Play. Father and son, Father and daughter. I wouldn't miss it for the world, and it sets the tone for the high school years.
Well early last year, the flight tickets were booked for my daughter and me, car rented, family schedules synched. A month later everything was cancelled. COVID closed us down. We got our voucher and waited.
Now 18 months later. The pandemic is lightening up. We thought as much. Flights booked once again, car rented, family schedules synched. Just in time for my retirement from driving. And yesterday after learning of a new regulation that non-Israelis cannot get entry visas, I had to cancel everything once more.
Control? Whatever. At least we have that north star in our sites. Now it is a matter of trust. That is a chapter waiting to be written.
It simply needs to find its place in our unfolding story.
