Episode 74: Analogies to Create a Visual Representation of an Emotional Experience
"Sometimes I feel like I'm in my car on the highway, stuck behind a big truck. I look up at the end car on the car carrier and pray it doesn't fall off the trailer onto my head."
Those words are the gift she gave me.
It took a few days, but then I realized how her analogy applied to my situation: For months I had been driving my car along the highway, stuck behind a big truck. Because I have a tendency toward being impulsive (don't laugh), I had been driving very close to the back of the truck. I had been so incredibly frustrated being stuck there, so I kept swerving out to check for an opportunity to pass the truck, only to find a blind curve or a line of vehicles coming toward me, so I had to swerve back behind the truck, more and more angry and impatient.
Analogies Can Be Personal Stories Wrapped Up in Something More Relatable to Others
Stories connect us. They help us relate to each other and deepen our understanding of experiences in our lives. Analogies can give us an entirely different perspective, and help us create a more visual representation of emotional experiences.
I wrote the following analogy to help me put things in perspective when I was having a hard time in a job that was not only a bad fit for me and my skills, it was a job that I allowed to sink into my confidence and health. Each time I re-read it, I am reminded to think about where I am, where I want to be, and how I want to get there.
Analogies can be silly or serious, and sometimes a little of both. If you can make an analogy both, you will connect with your audience, bringing out common expressions of hope and frustration in a highly visual, imaginative way.
When I was at the end of my patience with my job, I reached out to a few mentors for help. I asked one friend to visit with me and provide ideas and guidance; I hoped for concrete advice. What I got was not at all what I had envisioned and as I walked out of her office I thought it had been a waste of my lunch break.
Lucky for me, the year had been one of tremendous growth, personally and professionally, so instead of leaving my thoughts there, I realized there had to be a reason I went seeking her guidance. I knew there must have been something in the conversation I could use and apply to my recent experiences. And when I gave myself time to process the words she used, I realized she gave me the beginning of an analogy I could apply, re-apply, and continue to reinvent to serve different situations.
She said: "Sometimes I feel like I'm in my car on the highway, stuck behind a big truck. I look up at the end car on the car carrier and pray it doesn't fall off the trailer onto my head."
It took a few days, but then I realized how her analogy applied to my situation: For months I had been driving my car along the highway, stuck behind a big truck. Because I have a tendency toward being impulsive (don't laugh), I had been driving very close to the back of the truck. I had been so incredibly frustrated being stuck there, so I kept swerving out to check for an opportunity to pass the truck, only to find a blind curve or a line of vehicles coming toward me, so I had to swerve back behind the truck, more and more angry and impatient.
Not only was I angry and frustrated and feeling all the muscles and tendons in my neck get more painful and stiff, I was making everyone else in the car uncomfortable. I was driving so close to the truck that I couldn’t see anything I was passing outside the car, the beautiful landscapes I was driving through were lost to me. All I could see was the dust and debris the truck was kicking up into my windshield, and I was breathing the fumes coming out the back. I missed the music playing on my radio and the conversations going on in the backseat, conversations that were precious and unlikely to happen again.
I was driving so close that the inexperienced (and mean) truck driver was driving even more erratically, making significant and dangerous errors because he was watching my car come so close.
I had choices to make. I could keep swerving to check whether I had an opportunity to pass, not really caring whether the opportunity took me toward a positive destination, or I could sit back in my seat and get a little space between me and the back of the truck. I could keep being frustrated and sometimes angry at that damn truck in front of me, or I could make some space between us so I could see opportunities from a distance and gauge whether they might be right for me and my passengers. I could choose to see the truck much more clearly by giving it room, so I could learn more about it and be able to avoid trouble, and maybe even help if necessary.
I wasn’t in denial, I knew the truck would cloud my view here and there, kicking up big gusts and clouds of snow and rain, and that I wouldn’t always be able to keep from getting frustrated. But with the space I was creating between me and the truck, I could at least try to enjoy the music, the view, the passengers in my car.
Eventually, that truck was going to get off the highway, or I was going to find a good opportunity to pass. I couldn’t get off the highway at the next exit because there were people in the car that were relying on me to keep on truckin', so to speak. And as one of my dearest friends said "you have great company in the car!"
My sister would say that I have always lived my life knowing that it is not about the destination, but about the journey... So here I am, driving my car and (usually) making better choices, enjoying the view, including some interesting and sometimes dangerous and frustrating weather. I'll keep on driving behind the truck until I find the right opportunity for me and my passengers, I'll continue to be grateful for the comfort of my friends and family traveling with me, and I'll most definitely sit back and enjoy the music.
What's your truck right now? Have there been bigger trucks in your way? How will you handle the next slow-moving truck you're stuck behind?
Not All of the Most Important Lessons Come from Struggle
We learned so much about ourselves and our relationship on that adventure. Our resourcefulness, silly senses of humor, and resilience was on full display.
Celebrating Lessons Learned from Joy - 50th Podcast Episode!
Karen & Sarah, Road Trip Warriors
I talk a lot about the lessons I’ve learned through struggle, I call them “opportunities for growth”, and many people believe the most important lessons in life are those learned during difficult times. I learn a lot about my strength, resilience, and courage through those obstacles and grief; I also learn a lot about myself, my relationships, and the world around me through happy experiences.
My sister and I decided to take a road trip in the last week I was in Colorado before moving to Washington DC for a paid internship after college. I had just graduated from Colorado State - Fort Collins, and she was a second semester freshman at the University of Northern Colorado in Greeley. It was early January, our dad was fixing my little Chevette to make the trip to DC, and we had just a few days before I had to leave.
We weren’t sure where we wanted to go, and as we drove to the AAA office to grab a map, we talked about maybe making it to Las Vegas. The AAA associate was concerned about this long trip, I think she assumed we were about 16, and she mentioned as she highlighted the route from Colorado Springs to Las Vegas: “That’s a very long drive, ladies, especially in winter!”
“That’s okay, it’s really not about the destination.”
Karen and I left with our map, stopped at the nearest Kmart for a case of oil, she drove an old Honda that burned through oil, and headed north and then west.
Always Great Travel Companions
Skirting Denver to head west, we passed the familiar sign “Buffalo Overlook”, and I couldn’t believe it. “Karen! There are buffalo at the buffalo overlook!” Puzzled, she smiled at me. “Um… yes, Sarah.”
“I’ve passed this sign a hundred times at least, and I look out every time, and this is THE FIRST time I’ve ever actually buffalo here!”
We drove into Glenwood Springs, a beautiful little town in western Colorado, where we had spent some time as young children.
“We could stop here and soak in the hot springs, and maybe see if they have a room for us here.”
Karen told me she was eager to get out of Colorado, so we kept on driving.
As we chugged in the little Honda up a hill just over the Utah state line, we realized the car was misfiring and having some trouble with acceleration, so we pulled off at the next exit with a gas station.
It was a gas station with a diner nearby - and nothing else. We filled up the tank and I put a bottle of dry gas into the tank, just in case there was moisture in it. Pulling around to the diner lot, I noticed the blinds of the diner pop open, and a few pair of eyeballs staring out at us. I went in to use the bathroom, which was a mistake, and when I came out, Karen was holding one of the spark plugs in a paper towel in her hand.
She asked if I happened to have some sandpaper with me that we could use to rub the carbon off the edges of the plus.
“No, but I have an emery board!” It didn’t fit in the gap, so I peeled the paper off the board. One at a time, my sister pulled out the plugs, I carefully pulled the sandpaper through the gaps, and she put them back. At some point, one of the pairs of eyes from the diner came out to ask if we “ladies” needed help. His belly arrived significantly before he did, and when we said we were okay, he huffed, annoyed, and stomped back into the diner. We saw the blinds pop open again as all of them watched us finish our work.
“McGyver!” Karen shouted, and we high-fived.
We drove away and didn’t have any more acceleration problems the rest of the trip.
Our adventure was filled with hilarious moments, especially late that night when we had been on the road for 8+ hours and were tired and punchy.
Eventually we stopped in Mesquite, Nevada. I got us a room, then we walked into the casino to look around. We won $300, got ID’d at least 6 times in the hour we were wandering, and were compensated for the hassle by the manager, who bought us dinner in the restaurant.
Later that year, I took the map we used, wrote short stories and quotes on it along the route, attached some pictures, and gave it to my sister in a frame as a gift.
We learned so much about ourselves and our relationship on that adventure. Our resourcefulness, silly senses of humor, and resilience was on full display. Maybe we knew innately that we held those traits, but experiencing this together was great confirmation.
The next time you are experiencing an “opportunity for growth”, think about some of those adventures you loved, those stories in your life that brought you great joy, and really consider the lessons you learned from those experiences. And when you’re in the middle of one of those joyful adventures, take time afterward to find the lessons in it.
Road Trip Stories to Build Relationships
What You and Your Children Remember of Their Childhood Can Be Wildly Different
Max
Ridiculously fun travel partner.
He knows it's never really about the destination.
It was just a short road trip for our younger son, Max, and me; around 1.5 hours for a spring break spontaneous getaway. I took advantage of our time alone together to record this podcast.
We've done quite a lot of traveling with our two boys, via air and car, and have made incredible memories. The one thing that makes a road trip different from any other kind of travel is the long hours in the car together, with little distraction, and lots of opportunity for frustration, connection, and snacks.
You'll hear the sound of the road in the background of our recording, adding just a little ambient sound to our discussion. I love to ask our boys what they remember about our family road trips; their memories are so different from mine, and when I hear their memories I learn even more about them, and how they see the world.
Road trips offer great opportunities to get to know people. I think traveling together, particularly in the car, can be the best test of a relationship. How compatible are you, really? When it comes to spending hours together with little distraction, and lots of opportunity for frustration - getting lost, bad weather, questionable road conditions - you learn quickly whether you can rely on each other to solve problems and keep a positive attitude in trying situations.
Max and I had a great, though too short trip together, and this recording is just a snippet of the kind of conversation we have when we spend time traveling together.
Here's an article I wrote about another road trip with our boys. I'm so grateful not only for the time I get to spend with them, but also for their sense of humor, their insights, and their incredible warmth and sparkle.