There is a lesson in everything although it may not be obvious from the beginning.
I am an optimist, I am. And I think positively, but sometimes things are just crooked and that’s that.
Today I saw a truck almost drive into my car while i was leaving an intersection and for a split second I thought I should get out of its way, but my body was frozen and I had a few strange thoughts dangling like old, hollow-sounding wind chimes. The one that stood out was “Am I going to die?”. The truck stopped, brakes screeching – they continue to do so in my head as I write this – and then I drove away, dazed and still clutching onto the steering wheel as if I was glued to it. My body was now moving – driving – but my mind was frozen on the thoughts left over from a few moments ago and the ugly metal face of that truck coming too fast and too close to me. I choose to think of it as a truck, just a truck, and not a person driving it.
I put that image and the thoughts it dragged behind aside but they kept coming back. Again, and again and again throughout the day. Until the thoughts broke down the wall I put up between me and my fear. That overwheming fear that paralyzed first my body and then my mind, the fear that I kept pushing away the whole day.
I faced it with very little dignity, I suppose, and I do admit to that. I let it stomp its big heavy feet all over my thoughts and then I let it roar it in my head and when it was all done, I figured out it was about time I learn something from all of this.
First of all, that I am responsible not only for my own life but for the lives of my children, hence I should be planning accordingly for that. For any circumstance that is. It’s called planning and being prepared. a very grown-up thing to do otherwise.
Fear is a natural feeling, although fear like this can bring one to his/her knees. It did. I am getting up again though. I am stubborn that way. And yes, we can run but we can’t hide. At some point, sooner or later, we have to face it. Fear like this doesn’t just go away unless it is dealt with properly. It’s like having to cross to the other side by swimming in very cold water. Jump in and while the coldness will shock you, it might even stop your breathing for a few seconds, you’ll soon discover that your mind and body have the resources to deal with it.
I am lucky. Amidst thinking terrifying thoughts, feeling my tears running on the outside and inside too, and hearing myself say “I can’t, I won’t take another step”, something of a different nature emerged. A little voice singing a tune, a voice that kept getting stronger as I was listening to it – “Somebody up there loves you”. It was enough for me to be able to see the silver lining. It made sense. It must be true. Otherwise I wouldn’t be writing this.