by John P. Weiss
I used to wonder if my Dad’s old truck had a soul.
It certainly had character, with its dents, scuffs, and temperamental stick shift. Who knows what stories and exploits lay behind the truck’s dilapidated exterior.
Dad was no longer a spring chicken when he bought the old truck. He used to struggle at times with the stick shift, and repairs were frequent.
But then, Dad was drawn to old things like fountain pens, hardcover books, and the nostalgic design and feel of early model vehicles. Perhaps the truck’s high mileage and gently worn exterior reminded Dad of himself? Older, showing some wear, but still full of dreams.
“A man is not old until regrets take the place of dreams.”-John Barrymore
When Dad passed away we sold the old truck to a handyman who used to work on our house. “I love these old trucks,” the handyman said before driving off to probably the last chapters in that truck’s life story.
If trucks and cars are like people, I’ll bet they’re happiest when they’re useful. But what happens when they retire?
Do trucks and cars still matter then?
The importance of having fun
There’s an old mining town along Hwy 95 in Nevada known as Goldfield. In this town with a population of only a few hundred sits a surreal junkyard/art installation named “The International Car Forest of the Last Church.”
Photo by John P. Weiss
The installation contains a spread-out collection of old cars, limos, delivery trucks, and even a school bus. Many of these vehicles are buried nose first, with their back ends protruding upwards, out of the dirt like ostriches.
“Never, ever underestimate the importance of having fun.”-Randy Pausch
The entire installation is strange, colorful, memorable, and fun. There was even a music video filmed on the site.
Photo by John P. Weiss
The installation was the brainchild of Goldfield local Mark Rippie, who wanted to out-do similar type installations like Texas’ Cadillac Ranch and Nebraska’s Carhenge. Rippie got help from artists Chad Sorg and Zak Sargent. The project was 9-years in the making.
Photo by John P. Weiss
It’s safe to say that all of the vehicles resting at The International Car Forest of the Last Church are retired. They no longer matter, at least the way they used to.
But weirdly, they look like they’re having fun. As if they’re no longer taking themselves too seriously.
If cars and trucks that no longer matter can still have fun, what about us?
We need to master irrelevancy
Growing up, you tend to focus on yourself and your goals. You often have parents, family members, and friends cheering you on.
You pursue a career, promotions, relationships, and the many milestones of life (ie: marriage, first house, children, career success, etc). Others depend on you, there’s purpose in your life, and you know you matter.
But sooner or later, just like old cars in a junkyard, you will matter less. Maybe your kids will grow up and move away, or you’ll lose your job and suddenly be unemployed.
You’ll retire and notice fewer email and phone messages. Work colleagues carry on without you since you’re out of the game now.
Where once you felt engaged and important, sooner or later you end up feeling forgotten and irrelevant.
The question is: Will you be Ok with mattering less?
In an article for Harvard Business Review, writer Peter Bregman wrote:
“As we get older, we need to master the exact opposite of what we’ve spent a lifetime pursuing. We need to master irrelevancy. This is not only a retirement issue. Many of us are unhealthily-and ultimately unhappily-tied to mattering. It’s leaving us overwhelmed and over-busy, responding to every request, ring and ping with the urgency of a fireman responding to a six-alarm fire. Are we really that necessary?”
This notion of mattering less doesn’t just apply to older adults and retirees. Think about all the people desperately trying to be liked on social media.
The reality is that everyone has an ego, whether young or old. We all want to matter and be recognized by our peers. The problem is that our self-worth becomes dependent on the opinions of others.
So how do we stop feeling irrelevant and learn to embrace life? How do we learn to matter less and smile more?
Focus on the present and celebrate your freedom
Our egos are always worrying about the past or the future at the expense of the present. Also, worrying about what others think hijacks our freedom. We’re more hesitant to do what we want to.
You can do what you want
Irrelevancy brings a kind of freedom.
Consider the old limo in The International Car Forest of the Last Church. It’s covered with graffiti now, resting atop an aging delivery truck.
It looks ridiculous, but do you think it cares? Heck no. It’s having fun. It’s retired and has the freedom to look however it wants to.
When we stop worrying about how much we matter, we have the freedom to do what we want.
As Peter Bregman notes:
“When your purpose shifts like this, you can do what you want. You can take risks. You can be courageous. You can share ideas that may be unpopular. You can live in a way that feels true and authentic. In other words, when you stop worrying about the impact of what you do, you can be a fuller version of who you are.
Enjoying the freedom that comes with being irrelevant can help us avoid depression and enjoy life after retirement, even for people who have spent their careers being defined by their jobs.”
Whether you’re feeling irrelevant from a recent retirement, job loss, relationship change, or another big life event, don’t despair. Stop worrying about how much you matter, and take advantage of your new freedom.
Here are a few suggestions to overcome feeling irrelevant:
Take pleasure in the activity versus the outcome. Don’t worry about how good your artwork is, or how many likes you might get on social media. Learn to enjoy the present moment and the joy of what you are doing.
Listen to others more, and talk less about yourself. People love to talk about themselves. Even when they appear to be listening to you, they’re often formulating their next thought.
Train yourself to listen more. Ask questions. Resist the temptation to make it about you. This will teach you to let go of your ego and how much you matter. Also, others will think you’re the best conversationalist when actually it’s just that you listen well.
Talk to a stranger for the pleasure of it. Random conversations with people we don’t know can be very fulfilling. We learn new perspectives, and reports indicate random conversations are good for our health and well-being.
Practice mindfulness or meditation. Carthusian monks spend most of their day alone, praying and thinking in individual cells. Their food is delivered through a small locking window.
Carthusian monks live the most austere and cloistered lives of all Christian monks. They shun the Internet and are unknown to the rest of the world, yet they are some of the most peaceful and contented men you’ll ever meet.
Carthusians don’t spend their days worrying about how much they matter. Through prayer, mindfulness, and deep solitude, they are free in ways that many of us can only dream of.
The good news is that you don’t have to become a monk to practice mindfulness and meditation, and doing so can free you from feelings of irrelevancy.
Forever is composed of nows
The International Car Forest of the Last Church shows us that old vehicles may not be useful or matter the way they once did, but they can have a lot of fun in retirement. Instead of driving people around, now they’re entertaining people as an art installation.
How about you? Are you ready to stop feeling irrelevant and embrace the freedom that comes from living in the moment? Stop worrying about mattering, and spend more time living.
“Forever is composed of nows.”-Emily Dickinson
I don’t know where my Dad’s old truck is today. Maybe it’s still in service, or maybe it has flowers growing out of its engine block.
The latter doesn’t sound so bad. There’s peace in the garden, where the sun and rain bring growth, and the flowers quiver in the breeze, indifferent to what the world thinks of them.
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