Last Tuesday night, I found myself sitting in Row L in the Flynn Theatre enjoying a Dan Bern and Ani DiFranco concert with three very random people:
1. My former boss from summer camp (aka, my father’s associate pastor);
2. Her husband (aka, my sister’s ex-boyfriend); and
3. A woman I had never met before but whose entire immediate family I worked with at said summer camp; who hours earlier left a voicemail message on my phone offering me a free ticket to the performance.
I think, for 90 minutes, I was in love with Ani. If you’ve never seen her perform, and I hadn’t until then, I suggest you check her out while you can. She’s the tiniest performer I’ve ever seen but her energy and talent equaled or bettered anyone I’ve ever seen…except maybe Weird Al.
12 hours later, I boarded the US Airways Near Death Experience Plane to visit Ms. Parker. The turbulence was so rough, my seat left my seat during the flight. I suppose I can say I experienced weightlessness for that split second. Considering the food I ate at Thanksgiving, it was a nice feeling despite the underlying feeling of terror. During our descent, the high winds knocked the plane around like a cat batting a mouse. When we were over the runway, there was a gust of wind that turned the wings nearly perpendicular to the ground. If we were any closer to the ground, we might have lost a wing. Ultimately, we landed safely and the cabin erupted into a heartfelt round of applause.
6 days later, two days after returning home safely from my trip on a less-than-exciting flight, I found myself driving home from work through a terrible snow/sleet/ice/rain storm. The weather was turning my 50-minute commute into a 90-minute one. Halfway home, I crossed a bridge, hit a patch of ice and lost control of Inga (evidently, there’s real truth to those “Bridges Freeze Before Roads” signs). I fish-tailed twice, skidded down the road sideways for a second and rammed the front right corner of Inga into the guardrail on the right lane side of the road. When the dust settled, I found myself staring down oncoming traffic from the driver’s seat of a stalled car with its butt in the right lane. I restarted the car, pulled onto the shoulder, got out to see my front bumper nearly pressing against my front tire, called 911, and waited for the cop and the subsequent tow.
People always talk about these “life flashing before your eyes” moments like you have enough time to think of anything other than how to avoid death. On the plane, yes, I had the entire flight to pray, think of my family and loved ones, and thank my morbid self for the will I always leave on my bedroom desk each time I fly. In my car, though, the only thought I had time to think was “this could be it” and it’s because of this that I fear my last words are doomed to be terribly ineloquent. After the near death experience, however, I had PLENTY of time to think. And these were my thoughts:
1. There’s no reason to be afraid to change careers;
2. There’s no excuse not to write the story that’s been in your head for 5 years; and
3. There’s no reason not to tell her how you feel.
I doubt that hearing of near death experiences is as powerful and rewarding as surviving them, but that should never stop you from trying to learn from them. Thus, know that I learned that I have the power to live the life I desire. And if I ignore my passions and desires and I fall victim to apathy, I risk a fate far worse than death.
Benchly'sword 