Auto Therapy

Recently, I started volunteering at a local auto mechanic shop that Marta and I had been taking our cars to. About a month ago I asked the owner of the shop if it would be ok if I came by to just hang out and watch as they fixed cars and possibly learn a thing or two. The mechanics were a little perplexed because this was the first time anyone had ever made such a request but they quizzically agreed to my offer in return for helping out where I could. Their only question was whether my virgin ears could stand the amount of swearing I would encounter, to which I replied that they had been deflowered long ago. The first day I was greeted with the proclamation that "The crazy guy is here" but was fairly quickly introduced to the mechanics and taken under their wing.

I came into the shop letting them know that I knew absolutely nothing about cars or how to fix them and that I was here to learn. I had been sick of being at the mercy of corrupt auto mechanics who could tell me anything they wanted to and I would have to believe them and pay ridiculous amounts of money to them. I also thought that it might be nice to save some money by learning how to do simple repairs on my own aging automobile. My first day at the shop the guys taught me how to do an oil change and fix a break light. (I felt so empowered with a sense of accomplishment!)

I have found, however, that after a month of volunteering the greater reason I go is for my own therapy. I have found that in working with people change is often a painstakingly slow process if it happens at all. As a therapist one cannot simply "fix" people. Even if change is accomplished there is no guarantee that your work will not unravel with the next week's stressor. With cars, if you see a problem, you can fix it and the job is done. There comes a real sense of accomplishment that does not easily come with working with people. This is my therapy. I have found that it is balancing for me to be involved with something that progresses and can be easily judged as "accomplished".

Even on the days when I do not do much at the shop, it still feels healing to be there. I take in deep breathes of oil fumes and listen to stories of how the mechanics have burned their eyebrows off or been injured in the war. I feel that I have retreated from the world of pain and chronic family dysfunction for at least a few hours during my week.