Yesterday morning found me in a ditch after Icarus decided to follow a bend in the road that did not exist. A tired and distracted mind, sketchy gravel roads, and a near-illegal speed came together to land my car and I in a spot that, as a goodnatured passerby helpfully pointed out, is “not a good place to park.”
There are many such spots in life, both internal and external. Places that exist, that you could find yourself in (by choice or by accident), and that you could either park in or only pause for a moment and then move on from.
- Mental and emotional states where I block out people I love from my thoughts, ignoring texts and emails because of recent conflicts over life choices.
- The moments on an early morning hike where I peer over the edge of a precipice and think, What a glorious place to die — then proceed to fantasize about falling over the edge and not being discovered for days.
- Choosing to stay in the psychological and physiological strain of being oversocialized without stepping out gracefully to recharge my soul, and continue blaming the situation and letting the drainedness steal my smile and happy thoughts.
Not good places to park. Not even close.
But moments like that do come up every now and then in life.
They are not even “low points” or lulls in life’s trajectory, but simply seconds and hours here and there, moments of decision or reaction where I come face-to-face with the darkness I carry in me even in the happiest of times, and must then choose to either stay there and share a meal with the shadows, or nod goodbye and crawl back out of the ditch.
Sometimes getting back out is a one-person job. Other times, I need help.
Either way, it is expensive surviving these ditchings, paying the tolls of pain, shame, sweat, fear, tears — all the things I try to live with without living in.
And goodness, walking that fine line gets tricky sometimes.
At least we get to choose where to park.