Life in the Fast Lane

I was in a car accident last week. I've been spending a minimum of four hours a day on the freeway since early February, driving from North San Diego county to West Los Angeles every day, so I suppose my own personal "Crash" moment was inevitable at a certain point. I was hit from behind while slowing for traffic on the northbound 405, and at the time of impact I immediately understood exactly what was happening and for a split second felt sure that this was it, this is how I die, slowing down in the fast lane in Torrance, California on sleepy Tuesday morning.

That didn't happen, of course--my car is totalled, I've got a weird bruise on my left arm and some sore ribs, but nobody was seriously hurt and as freeway collisions go mine turned out be relatively mild. But the accident stunned me, in more ways than one, and I don't think I've fully processed the experience yet. It wasn't a "brush with death re-evaluate the meaning of your life" kind of thing--I don't think my subconscious will let me engage in something that cliched at this point in my life--nor was it quite a traumatic "how can we all be spiralling toward our destruction in these death traps every day" kind of thing either, though that kind of panic is more up my Lexapro-soothed anxiety alley.

As I get some distance and sort through my thoughts I think my reaction to the accident is more about reminding myself to pay attention. I wasn't at fault (I'm saying that now less any Geico claims processor stumble across this blog) and I'm not sure I could have done anything to avoid the collision in any way, but I was on auto-pilot, drifting with my morning thoughts, abstent-mindedly sipping coffee and half-listening to the radio, taking my foot on and off the brake at the same places I take my foot on and off the brake every morning. I was not, as they say, "in the moment," until the moment reached out and grabbed me and punched me in the ribs and poured coffee all over my Sirius radio receiver. The moment decided it would not ignored, in this case. And all I think I should say to that is: thank you. I receive you. I'm grateful to be awoken and I'll try to keep my eyes open as best I can from now on.