Here's another year in front of me in which anything could happen. Like Maria von Trapp, I'm afraid of the unknown, even as I long for it. And of course, everything is unknown. The actions I take this year may have nothing to do with the events that will fill it.
I was reminded of this on Christmas Eve on the way to a dinner party, when a truck came out of the unknown and slammed into the car I was in while we were stopped behind a doubleparked car. The driver of the truck did not slow, and as near as we can figure, he was trying to pass someone on the left before switching into the left lane to go around us.
There was that sickening thud and lurch I have experienced before (that sort of "Pevensies at the train station" feeling, only without being transported into Narnia), and then the back end of our car was torn off, and Jack's cane, which he keeps on the dash while driving, struck me and became tangled in my hair. I had no bruises afterward, so I can't quite figure out where or how the cane struck me, although my head hurt as if someone had rattled my brain inside my skull, but there it was: the brass handle of the cane wrapped in several inches of my curls.
Ahead of us, a white pickup truck lay on its side in the left lane. Our car had served as a ramp and the driver had soared over us and flipped his truck. People were running to it, screaming, while Jack and I stood stunned in the debris of our rear bumper (now in front of the car). Someone shouted that the door was stuck, and they couldn't get the driver out until the police arrived. When they eventually pulled him out, he seemed miraculously unscathed, though they put a brace on his neck and took him away in an ambulance. We were uninjured, but Jack's car was totalled. Being unable to work for the past few years and dealing with chronic pain and health issues, this was the last thing Jack needed. But it could have been worse. Much worse.
Through all of this, I kept thinking that no matter how safely I drive, no matter what I do, there is no way to control what others around me might do. Had the other driver turned a second earlier, he might have missed us completely; a second later, and he might have seriously injured us, or worse. We are forever at the mercy of the unknown. All we can do is react when it comes flying at us.
While pondering these things, I came across a blog post written earlier today by writer and literary agent Lucienne Diver, wherein she contemplates an idea that has "spiraled into something truly ambitious, something I’m afraid I won’t be able to pull off." Well, there it is, the unknown we can affect, but which still looms like a dragon in the dark: our own words. As every writer knows, when the muse throws down the gauntlet, you have to take it up. Will I be able to pull it off? Will I do my darlings justice? I don't know, but I have to try.
So I wonder what this day will be like, what my future will be, and I remember that I must dream of the things I am seeking. (I am seeking the courage I lack.) Thank you, Maria von Trapp and Lucienne Diver, you are so right. Pants kicked.
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