Most of my posts of this past year have begun with the challenge of what to do in this corona time - all the way from books read or repair projects or people met here or there which would then be relegated to my 'thinker' and give rise to insights profound or practical or perhaps quite useless, but at least something to do. I write because I enjoy it, but suspect also leftover traits of this workaholic, however retired I might try to be. I am one of those still wired for action like Rudyard Kipling's "sixty seconds worth of distance run" in that famous poem "If," or my dad's all purpose saying, "An idle mind is the devil's workshop".
Having just completed a project, and just as my brain was slipping into the stand-by "what's next?" I allowed myself a small perusal of some articles written once upon a time during my trucking years. Right before my eyes was one which immediately brought a smile to my face and a nice reminder.
Feb. 8, 2011
EXTREME DISCIPLINE
I think I just raised the bar on self discipline. Usually when I think discipline it’s in context of things to do – get some exercise, do your homework, and the famous one my children will never forget, “Get out of bed so we won’t be late for church again!” Last night I learned a new angle on discipline. It was the extreme discipline of doing nothing, and the teacher was my truck!
After a day’s hard drive I pulled into this small town, Shaniko, OR and promptly ventured to a little road at corner of town which has been my quiet sleeping spot on several previous occasions. Just prior to parking I do a U-turn at end of road in front of an old building. This time, unlike previous occasions, while doing the turn I felt some slippage back there, started ‘giving er’ a bit more to get back onto the safety of road – and spun out! Aagh, there I sat in the corner of town, drive tires undeniably mired in mud.
Somehow, thankfully, I resisted the impulse to work at it, to spin tires, to rock, to chain up, to make phone calls, etc. Instead I counseled myself to stay calm, do the logbook, say my prayers, and go to bed. I also left the brakes off, unlike the way you usually do it when parked. Maybe, just maybe, in the morning my tires will be frozen hard on the frozen mud and maybe, just maybe, the treads will grab a little traction and lift themselves out of this yucky dilemma. Far fetched as it felt, I knew that had to be first line of attack to this problem.
That was the plan. Even at bedtime I had to fight off impulses of self-doubt, as though somebody was whispering, “that won’t work, you’re sunk, idiot, now just add a $400 tow bill to the $200 you just spent in Calgary to fix a guy’s bumper”, etc, etc. Mercifully I was able to lay those thoughts aside and fall asleep fairly quickly. At 03:00 I woke, obviously my body looking for a little warmth from my trusty Webasto. While the heater did its job (what a handy little option that devise) I fought the impulse to try it now in the middle of the night, but resisted that impulse because I knew if I failed now, that last stretch of night would be sleepless with fresh self-loathing and adrenalin coursing through my veins. Instead, another prayer and some deep breathing and I slipped back into merciful sleep. I woke up at my usual time, 06:00! Yes!
Even now in the crisp morning air I told myself once more “discipline”, said another prayer (interesting how one's prayer life improves directly in proportion to desperate circumstance), made the bed and got dressed as per usual, still fighting off despairing thoughts about the state of my wheels back there! Then I started the truck (it starts like a charm these days), put it in reverse just to kind of wake up the power train, and then the big test. I put it in second gear, gently let out the clutch and idled out of there! Yes, I drove right up onto the gravel where I had planned to spend the night!
Oh Lord, thank you! It’s like I just had a heart transplant. The whole morning darkness took on a hue of glory. I walked – or rather skipped - back where I had spent the night right atop those yawning black tracks, thanking the Lord over and over. Ironically only a few days ago I had read Exodus 15, the song of Moses after the people of Israel escape pursuing Egyptians at the Red Sea. I had not escaped an evil pharaoh or pursuing armies, but indeed I had escaped despair. I was able to claim the self discipline needed not only to think clearly about what to do, but also to have a nice safe sleep while awaiting the miracle.
Jake Froese, Truck 2774
With minimal editing, I submit this article as written back there. It was but the rambling of a trucker, but here it is among my profound and occasionally elitist, strident posts 😁 of these days. Really, come to think of it, that trucker discipline back there may be as useful today as it was then.
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