Why I Drive a Banger
Looking for a parking spot ahead of a meeting I saw my client pull up outside the café in his immaculate, late-model Audi. Despite seeing empty places nearby, I kept going and parked 50 metres away, suddenly embarrassed by my banged-up 2005 Honda CRV, covered in red dust and full of kitesurfing gear.
Normally I’m proud to have kept the old ‘beach car’ going for so long, but a nagging imposter feeling suddenly overtook me: Why should anyone as successful as my client listen to a guy who drives an old, neglected vehicle that smells of sweat, with a key fob held together by duct tape?
Self-conscious and embarrassed, I entered the café. The amazing coincidence was that my client wanted to talk about the incessant pull he felt to be successful. With no definition of what that looks like, he continued expanding his business and consuming stuff, all fuelled by more debt. His wife was not aligned. He wanted to talk about what constitutes ‘enough’ and how to make good decisions.
This moment was a gift for both of us. “Let me tell you why I drive a rubbish car,” I began, sharing why my junk heap is the outcome of hundreds of values-based decisions made together with my wife.
Twenty-five years ago, she asked me, “What drives our decisions: the values of society, or values we’ve consciously chosen and try to live out intentionally?”
Our first decision at the time was to make what was for us a large donation to a development NGO, which we paid for by establishing a budget, which had us reduce our spending. We made difficult decisions, but they built good habits. A few years later I left a well-paid job in investment banking to get into leadership development, and we started our own business with no experience. It was an incredibly tough time, but it got us on the right path and built our confidence. We decided to live simply, have adventures, and invest time in our community, all of which involved sacrifice and effort, but yielded rich rewards.
As I spoke to my client, I realised sharing about my values was the antidote to all the nonsense in my head about what car I’m driving. It was obvious he also benefited from the conversation and was ready to discuss the situation with his wife. He realised that sacrifices would be necessary but ultimately worthwhile.
I got into my car, enjoying the aroma of damp gear and sweat. The alarm went off because of an electrical fault that would cost too much to repair. All heads turned. I switched the car off, restarted and drove away – in love with my car.
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