Take a sad song and make it better

On the highway today, I must have had an angel on my shoulder. Maybe one one each. I was on my way to Cambridge to do some work at the courthouse and  thinking about Cutting Through Spiritual Materialism, a book by the Tibetan Buddhist, Chögyam Trungpa, I should have coming in the mail. Then my thoughts turned to God (I try to commune as much as I can, even if it's just checking in). I reached over for my phone or to grab my water - I don't remember which- and when I looked up, traffic had come to a complete stop ahead of me. I hit the brakes hard.

I had been in the passing lane, but that changed. The car spun out of control; tires screeched. Around and around I went, thinking first My mother's car is about to be totaled and then I am not getting out of this in one piece.

When my car finally, mercifully, came to a stop, I was now two lanes over to the right and perpendicular to the road. Unscathed, I took a moment to exhale before realizing I was still in significant danger. The car had stalled and it took a couple of attempts to start it. I pulled over to the brake down lane and tried to regroup.

I assessed the landscape. At least eight cars littered the highway, at rest and askew. Patches of black tire marks told the story of the chaos that transpired. Yet there wasn't a single collision. Not even a fender bender. This should have turned out a lot worse. Logic dictated as much. But yet...

It was surreal. Everyone just sat there for a moment probably bewildered like me at the unlikelihood of their fortune. The scene seemed to warrant some kind of acknowledgement between the parties involved, even if only to marvel at the outcome. Instead, everyone straightened out their cars and proceeded with their journey.

What occurred could have been random, but I don't believe so. I don't toss out the word miracle very often, but it applies here. I drove away, breathing hard and saying Fuck, Fuck,Holy Shit, over and over. I laughed; my knees shook; a part of me felt like crying.

 I shall live another day. I am grateful.

Janelle was in Davis Sq. earlier this evening. We met up at Mike's Pizza and drank Newcastles at a table outside. What a lucky man, able to spend time with someone I love so much when I could have ended up in the hospital or a morgue. This life is a floating bubble with delicate skin. We see death as a far off thing, which gives us the ability to take things for granted. I'm not as afraid of dying as I used to be. In some ways I look forward to it. To me, death is not final; it is transition. Still, I'm not keen on going any time soon, which is precisely why I'm cancelling my three week trip to Sierra Leone.

 I am going to bed. Good night, my peaceful lambs.