I was sitting in the office of the sales guy at the dealership, talking about buying a new car. The more we talked, the more I realized I never wanted the damn thing in the first place. How did I get there?

Every so often I can make a decision, follow an idea, give in to desire, and find myself suddenly out of context. Like the new car smell, it can be pretty enticing, and seem almost obvious. Unless it isn’t.

Yesterday I heard a guy talking about how we’ve become so reductionist in our thinking. We parse things into their pieces to the point where we lose sight of the whole. I do that.

I can have a variety of selves. One for work, in the garden, for guests, or in the bedroom. On my good days I’m recognizable wherever I am, and then on others I’m in a showroom buying a vehicle I don’t want because part of me thinks I do.

It’s not that I am faking it, it’s that I’m paying more attention to the sum of the parts than the whole. I am trying to lift with only my left arm, ignoring the help the rest of me could bring.

It’s when the composite picture of me, actually looks like me, there’s congruence. It’s when I show up, and it makes sense. I’m authentic.

But, I gotta say, the hard part of the not-buying-a-car experience was that my increasing indifference turned out to be a brilliant negotiating tactic – as my angst rose, his price dropped. It’s really hard to walk away from a good deal.