Zen And The Art Of Car Washing

Many years ago, I read a book called Zen And The Art Of Motorcycle Maintenance, by Robert Pirsig.  It was about a cross-country motorcycle trip, but was really a long essay on mindfulness.

Back in the day, I worked on my own cars: changed the oil and filter, adjusted the ignition timing, set the points.  ("What's a points?" I hear a 30-something ask.)  This is not to claim master mechanic status: my biggest projects were changing out brake pads and installing new engine valves.  I never rebuilt an engine.

Decades passed.  Electronics now rule under the hood and dash.  I'm not sure I could get up and down from a creeper.  So my cars have gone to a trusted independent mechanic for almost 20 years.  If he can't handle it, they go to dealerships.  (I still do my own walk-around when the car is up on his lift).

In winter, my everyday car goes to a drive-through brushless car-wash.  It has an undercarriage spritzer that does an OK job of getting the road salt off.  But in the other three seasons, I hand-wash my cars.

It is a little exercise in mindfulness.  Doing a thorough hand-wash can be a Zen-like experience.  You focus on careful execution of the task.  Time slows.  Your brain de-clutters.  Here's a blemish.  Is it a bug splat that needs a second pass, or a stone chip you're stuck with?  Are there new scratches?  How should they be dealt with?  Rinse thoroughly.  Redo the panel if necessary.

Let the doors hang open to drain as you dry their shut-lines and backside surfaces.  Pop the hood and trunk: wipe down the interior seams and the engine compartment.  Open the sunroof and wipe down the frame.  Windex both sides of all windows.  Leather treatment for the seats.  Vacuum the interior and trunk.  Slow but sure and steady.  (It takes me about 2 hours to do a thorough hand-wash.)

Anyone who is "into'' hand-washing has a series of steps that works for him.  You don't have to consult a checklist because one step leads to the next.  It's like driving in a familiar neighborhood: the auto-pilot in your mind takes care of "getting there," while your attention is focused on details.  When you're finished, you've re-connected with your car and feel satisfied with a job well done.  Stand back and admire your handiwork; maybe take The Annual Picture.  Then a drive to knock the rust from the brake discs.  One-ness with your car.