Getting Keelered

Monday nights in May are reserved for "Getting Keelered", NLP training with Chris Keeler.

Chris is a masterful instructor with a classic "under-sell, over-deliver" style. You just never know what the outcome will be and the very word takes on epic proportions when he's at the helm.

Through his class, I can explore how some things happen when you don't expect them to happen, and come in ways you don't expect either. Like a universal course correction...an internal GPS that recalculates your route knowing just where you need to go even if you get lost or confused along the way.

I think of my GPS with Ozzy Osbourne's voice. The irony is irresistable.

And when I do think of that, it reminds me of how I felt when my new-ish burgandy Buick was stolen out of my driveway a few, long months ago. It hadn't been the car I really wanted. Deep down, in that resource reserved for my inner auto mechanic, I knew it and so did the car, poor thing. But I grew to love the things I loved about it, looks aside.

The car wasn't what I had really wanted but I figured it was good enough, even if I knew good enough never was or is.

Not-so-suddenly, the temperature dropped below-average freezing for January, followed by an unnecessary amount of snow and wind. The perfect storm really... snow, figid temperatures and opportunity. The car was gone and the elements conspired to make the most of the drama. Shakespeare would be impressed. Me, less so.

When the snow and police's investigation into my missing car stopped, a navy blue convertible appeared in my driveway, a car much closer to what I had wanted all along. I just wasn't smart (or confident or insert applicable word here) enough to figure it out on my own. Funny how that happens. Funny how sometimes when I drive the navy blue convertible on my way home from getting Keelered, I get that "funny feeling" when my resources are revving.

And I wonder how many times, in less obvious or commercial ways, my universal Ozzie gives me a slap upside the head and reminds to keep my freekin' eyes on my freekin' road. Then I slide behind the wheel, pop the navy blue car in to drive and kick it up to 60 ... or more.