This time of year makes me miss my truck. It wasn’t a great truck, but it was reliable, except that time the brakes went out on an icy hill, causing me to force it off the road into a ditch. Or that time the wheel came off. Or when the heater went out one week when it was minus twenty degrees.
So maybe it wasn’t so reliable in a mechanical sense, but in a snowstorm it held its mettle. The little truck was a workhorse, and for years would breeze along past countless other (often larger) vehicles in the ditch. It had one fatal flaw, however: On a steep slope it struggled.
It would be flying along on any surface, but as soon as the path turned into an uphill climb, the little six-cylinder Ranger lost momentum and moved into a crawl. If you’ve ever driven a manual transmission, you know the solution to get up the hill is to downshift. You intentionally put it into a lower, slower gear. In doing so, you regain the power you’ve lost in the initial struggle. You get up the hill, but slower.
These days I drive automatic transmission vehicles, so I don’t notice the adjustments as they occur. It’s easy to disregard the need to downshift, to take it slower to get over the hill without burning out your engine.
A lot of us are feeling the effects of burnout. I’ve heard many people I care about express this lately. So, take it slow and save some juice for the top of the hill. You’re going to need it later on.
I have a newborn sleeping on my chest as I write this. Newborns have a way of forcing you to downshift. And whereas I’m pretty good at managing to get stuff done while holding him, I think I’ll take some time, sit back, and just listen to his little breaths.
Soon enough the time to put it in high gear will be upon us. And we will, because we’re good in the high gears too. But not now; now we rest.