My car was in need of repair. I’d scraped the passenger side while pulling into my narrow garage one night. Or, as the lighthearted appraiser said when we met, So I hear your garage jumped out and grabbed your car.

The insurance company made the claims process easy. When I dropped off my vehicle at the body shop, a rental car agent met me with the new white Volvo XC60 I’d be driving for the next couple of weeks. We walked the perimeter of the car, inspecting it for any markings larger than three inches in diameter. The agent, whom I’ll call Debbie, carried a small transparency with two concentric circles. By placing the transparency on the body of the vehicle, she showed me the exact size of any markings she would notate. Everything was pristine.

After Debbie showed me the controls on the interior, she asked if I wanted to purchase additional insurance. As I typically do, I declined, saying that my own insurance would be enough. Then she casually added this comment, That’s fine. But if you’re parked at the grocery store, let’s say, and a cart happens to bang into the car, you’re responsible for the repairs and for your insurance premium going up because of another accident. Now, I’m aware that she’s taught to do this, and I didn’t change my mind. But while driving carefully home, I began to get nervous about having some kind of minor incident. I was already paying a steep deductible on my own car. Maybe it was worth the $20 a day.

In the next couple of days, I kept returning to an increasing anxiety about the rental. But then, I perceived what had happened. I woke up to the fact that Debbie had tried to plant a subtle, but noticeable, seed of fear in my mind. I saw it in my imagination as as a brown seed, and I knew that adding my attention to it would make it grow. I decided to interrrupt the usual cycle of worry (what I like to call hamster head), by asking for inner guidance: do I really need the coverage because it’s in my best interest, or can I let this fear go?

What happened next surprised me. I watched as the seed I pictured in my mind’s eye was slowly coated in gold. I didn’t intend to picture that; it came through to me. I found myself a bit more relaxed and went about my day.

By day’s end, I’d released my concern about the rental car. I knew it was important to be careful, but I needn’t grow the seed of fear. I’d be OK as long as I drove and parked responsibly.

Sometimes a gift moment is revealed when a “negative” experience leads to another step. In this case, the choice to ask for inner guidance uncovered a golden seed of trust and knowing that brought peace of mind.