Growth from Subtraction

Since May 2018, I have not been driving because I had to surrender my license.

It's not my favorite.

Wrecking my car sucked (it was a new to us Corrolla)

Losing my job as a result cut deeply at my self-confidence.

The anxiety of "what will happen if my new employer discovers I cannot drive" was a thick fog that took months to burn off.

I feel self-conscious at times at the bus stop waiting in a high traffic area in Jersey Shore. I (probably wrongly) assume people think I'm a dead-beat or an alcoholic.

There are times where I'd like to hop in my vehicle and go kayaking or go visit the Ethical Society 45 minutes away but I don't because I cannot drive.

Long car rides are more stressful because Karen has to do all of the driving and I am not the best passenger. I much prefer to be in control of the wheel and can be an obnoxious passenger.

May will be here soon!! We're starting to look at vehicles again and I know this life interruption will soon be over.  

It surprised me the other day as I was thinking about this fact and realized my feelings are mixed. In fact, there are parts of my new normal that I am going to miss.  

I've grown and adapted over this past year and discovered several quality of life improvements.

I enjoy the feeling of autonomy and increased "can do it" that has emerged. When I first lost my license, I was desperate to figure out transportation. Williamsport has an excellent public transit system but it was confusing. Load google maps, look at the transit website, print directions, find my route in the bus guide. What time to I need to leave, what if it rains? At the time, I was a mobile therapist.  I walked miles all over Williamsport, crossing neighborhoods I had only ever driven by. I splurged on a bike (my mom pitched in for a substantial part of it). I'd get up in the morning, put my bike on the bus outside my house, get it off in Williamsport, then figure out which appointments I could take it to and where to lock it up.

I traded my laptop case for a back pack. I purchased an umbrella for those rainy days. I use the water bottle slot so I don't dehydrate when I walk or ride across town. There's a small pocket in the bottom corner that has a poncho, my chap-stick, and breath mints. It has an interior net pocket designated as my headphone holder. I learned that if I don't have a dedicated slot, my headphones end up in my pocket and inevitably get destroyed when they go through the washing machine.

I feel like a seasoned traveler now. I know the bus routes. I don't panic when they are running a few minutes late.  I've taken the bus to different cities for work. I've taken the kids on the bus to a saturday parade (way more stressful than traveling alone). I've taken the bus home from work and had Devon meet me at the bus stop and hop on so we could both ride to the YMCA (almost a mile down from us). Most recently, I realized I can catch the bus at my house at 6am, ride it to the YMCA, play basketball, get ready for the day there, then catch the bus at 7:49am which takes me to Williasmport to work by 8:30am. This is really working. Humble guy that I am, the thought has crossed my mind that the news paper should write a story about my "heroic" efforts but they haven't. Maybe that's why I'm writing my own account.

Know what else I'll miss?
I'll miss the bus drivers knowing where I get on and off and the kind courtesies that result from being  a regular.  I'll miss the serene moments before or after work walking to or waiting at the bus stop. Countless sunrises, encounters with brave bunnies, and squirrels drinking water from a rain gutter. I love how the guy at the Paddle wheel (cafe/grille at the bus stop) always remarks how he loves that my credit card is made out of metal. I'll miss seeing passengers automatically vacate the front seats if an elderly person, parent with child, or shopper with full arms comes aboard. I'll miss seeing the bus drivers help get baby-toting strollers safely off.  I'll miss the concern of an African American gentleman for a young white guy who fell asleep at the bus station and missed his bus back to pre-release center because the guys he was with purposely didn't wake him up.  "He could go in the hole for something like that," the bystander remarked empathetically.

I have probably an hour and a half each day to think, read, or listen to podcasts alone if I want even though I'm in the presence of other passengers. I've read more books this year as a result. I'll miss the consistency of schedule. I don't have a lot of flexibility about when I get ready. I march to the rhythm of the River Valley Transit schedule. When I go back to driving, do I have to give up those margins? Will I be able to convince myself to sit in my car and read even for 15 minutes. There's no guilt for waiting for a bus because it's beyond my control.

It strikes me how much I have grown and learned through this path that I would have never chosen.  It has left me wondering how my life might be shaped if I intentionally subtracted other things. On the basketball court this past week, I had a sore muscle that kept me from running fast and driving in. To counter this weakness, I found my distance shooting became a focus and I enjoyed the slight but noticeable improvement. I definitely spend more time thinking about the things I want to add to my life to make it better. But I am beginning to wonder what would happen if I increased my commitment to subtraction. 

This is certainly not a new knowledge. It's the secret behind spiritual practices like fasting and vows of poverty. It's the promise of minimalism, lent, and diets.

It's the clarity that comes from seeing the brevity, dare i say absurdity of life.  The list of things that really matter are reduced steeply. Note to self: eliminate the noise and clutter.

This past week I had to fill in for our entry level math class at work. I was teaching subtraction and got tripped up by a problem where I had to take away from 100,000. All those zeroes, "Wait, how do I borrow and cross out?"

I finally got it figured it out (no teacher of the year awards in sight) but it is salient in my mind that I have more to learn about subtraction.