I drove home on roads like this:
|Screen shot from "Ice Road Truckers."|
Only it was snowing and raining and blowing, as well. On a major highway. One lane, with four inches of slush. So that every time a semi passed, my car was covered and I was blinded.
I fully expected her to show up, at any moment.
|Goddess of Death|
Now, I remain very aware of my own mortality.
This has been a brutal winter. And a winter that I'm doing lots of driving in conditions that I normally can avoid. On a highway that's known for frequent accidents.
Frankly, I'm scared.
But it wasn't until the ice road trucking experience that I figured out why I was scared. 'Cause that morning I woke up thinking, "I'm going to die today." And, I guess, in a way, I did.
My thinking has shifted. I recognize how strong my will to live is and it's made me question what I'm living for. If I'm fighting so hard to live (and driving 50 miles in THAT was a fight), what am I fighting for?
Am I living the life I want to live? Am I doing the things that I want to do before I die, the things I feel I must do?
Because, now, I know, I am not immortal.
And I don't mean this is the doom and gloomy sense. But the practical get-busy-living sense. The ice road = my wake up call. Which I'm going to pay attention to so that I don;t have to learn the lesson in a stronger way.