Equanimity at the Car Wash

I strive for equanimity. It’s the ability to stay even-keeled, regardless of what’s happening. To be kind, even when others around you are exploding. To be calm and clear-headed, even in the face of danger. To be true to yourself when it might be tempting to conform.

I’ve made some progress towards equanimity, but yesterday I lost it. When my husband and I returned home from a month away, a remodeling project that should have been finished had taken over our home. When I realized I couldn’t sleep in my own bed and had nowhere to hang my clothes, I lost equanimity. First I exploded at my innocent husband and then at the unsuspecting contractor.

The next day I drove my construction-dust-covered car through a quick car wash. I guided the car to the conveyor track and, as instructed, put it in neutral, took my hands off the wheel, and my foot off the brake.

Then I put my head back and closed my eyes. I heard the water pelting the car, but I was dry. I heard the softer sound of soap. Then the brushes went to work. Water again. Finally a long blast of drying air as my car completed its gentle movement through the process.

 The cleaning had happened around me as I simply sat at rest, protected, eyes closed.

I realized I lose equanimity when I’m displeased by my surroundings. But when I enclose myself within a safe space, put my gear in neutral, take my hands off the wheel and my foot off the brake, peace rules.

Equanimity. 

Everything has its wonders, even darkness and silence, and I learn, whatever state I may be in, therein to be content.

Helen Keller

You write it: What steals you from equanimity? What keeps you in it?