The search for a new car continues.

For those just tuning in, my Faithful Fiat is on its last legs. It’s been a wild eight years, and it’s been real, but it’s time to move on.

Having visited Koeppel Mazda in Jackson Heights on Friday, I went to John Starks Kia in Jamaica on Saturday.

When making significant purchases, I take a hivemind approach.

I read reviews. I talk to friends.

I keep my eyes peeled for things I like

I engage strangers I see using the things I’m considering.

I believe in the power of community.

I am looking for a subcompact SUV. And I ended up at Kia because U.S. News and World Report and Car and Driver both LOVE the Kia Seltos. (They also like the Kia Soul, but that will forever be The Hamster Car for me. Maybe you can get with this, or you can get with that, but, with apologies to Black Sheep, I cannot.)

I have dealt with many car salespeople over the years.

And I’m familiar with a number of personalities.

1. There’s The Salesperson Who Is Way Too Successful to Take You Seriously.
2. There’s The Little Engine That Could Salespeople, the overachievers who are transcending humble circumstances or a dealership not as committed to service as they are.
3. There are the Greasy Guys who say all the right things, and I walk away not wanting them to know where I live.
4. There are The New Guys, who are just learning their sales talks and trying to help you in any way they can.
5. There are The Green Kids, who say the quiet part out loud, and tell you things like they work here because it’s their first job, or they chose it because their Dad is the sales manager
6. There are The Pit of Despair reps, who have wanted to leave this gig a long time ago, who ooze depression, and who I often end up counseling before I leave.
7. There are The Sharks who see you coming a mile away, and will look to devour you at the first sign of blood.

The point is, I deal with people for a living. And this is not my first rodeo. It’s more like my 101^st rodeo. So I know these folks. I am prepared for them. And I’m ready for The Hard Pitch, and Let’s Talk to the Manager, and What Do I Have To Do To Get You in This Car? And a host of other classic chess moves.

Here’s what I was not prepared for: The Sage.

I go for a test drive with Kia Guy. We talk about the car. It’s fine. I like a lot of things about it. And at the end he says let’s go talk to my manager.

And I explain that I’m test driving a bunch of different cars.

Kia Guy asks which one, and I name five.

And Kia Guy says: Here’s my advice. Go drive them all. You first have to decide what you want, and if it’s us, come back and we can make a deal.

And as simple as it may sound, I’ve been thinking about it ever since.

How often do we make choices out of impatience, or anxiety, or ego, instead of first deciding what we want?

And I’m not just talking cars. I’m talking about relationships and jobs.

I’m talking neighborhoods and schools.

Yeah, it’s great that you got in, but do you want to go?

Sure it’s a great salary, but does it bring you closer to your goals?

Yes, you’re surprised they want to be with you, but do you want to be with them?

They’re cute. But are they honest? Are they kind? Are they safe?

How often have we:

1. Picked something out of desperation because it was the first thing available, and we didn’t want to waste time?

2. Jumped at the first thing to sparkle at us because we were flattered it was available?

3. Gotten into a relationship for superficial reasons, and gradually surrendered our agency, and sense of identity, and suddenly looked around and realized we were not where we wanted to be?

4. Chose the first option out of fear, because we worried we wouldn’t find another?

5. Chosen based on a feeling rather than a match with our values and needs?

6. Declined to determine our values and needs?

We often operate from a scarcity mindset, whether in resources, relationships, or time. This is all the money I have. I won’t do better than this connection. I’m on the clock and everyone else is ahead of me.

My worldview is that God is the author of time, and he is able to make things work at appointed times. Just because you started at 29, and I’m 49, doesn’t mean that I have twenty years less of potential.

Just because you got in the game in 2014, and I’m getting in it in 2024, doesn’t mean that I’m doomed to failure, or mediocrity, or a lesser life than you.

I really have no business comparing myself to you, anyway. If there’s something your path can teach me, great. If, however, I make you the metric for The Possible, I’m crazy. And if I build my life on this basis, I’m guaranteed to miss out on what God has for me. At the end of my life, God will not ask me what I did with your opportunities. He’ll ask what I did with mine. And woe unto me if the answer is I did nothing because I spent my time as a spectator because of an inferiority complex, or envy, or a voyeuristic obsession with the details of your life.

I don’t need your path, your gifts, your money, or even your car. I need mine. And I’m excited to see where mine takes me and yours takes you.

Let’s drive.

(Photo Credit: Hyundai Motor Group)