I totaled my car last Tuesday night, and all the blame lies on me. I struggled all week with guilt and my tortured thoughts of "what if's" and " why me's," that were more painful than my whiplash. As much as it pained me to tell of my accident, I'm grateful I talked about it as much as I did.
I was forced to hear how lucky I am that I walked away from it, and to remind myself that cars are replaceable and...shit happens.
When it comes down to it, it's easy to look back and wish that things could happen differenty. That we could go back and play our hand differently. Call a re-do and request that that just simply " didn't count."
Unfortunately, we rarely get the second chances we crave. Even more unfortunate to those with over-analytical minds that could spend hours and days replaying the sequences of events to find the errors and create the ideal scenarios that are an utter waste of time because, well, it's already happened.
So, it seems hard to swallow that I could be considered lucky for totaling my car. Allow me to dismiss that notion. If I believed in good or bad luck, I'd spend my days scavenging for four-leaf-clovers, and, well, I just don't have time for that.
Life happens. My life keeps happening, usually without warning. Whether I'm ready for it or not, it keeps me on my toes to say the least. But it's not because I'm unlucky, or can't catch a break.
It's happens to allow me to tell the story. To force me to keep my head up and practice trudging through whatever obstacle may throw itself in my path.
It creates situations for me to define my character, my strength, my flaws... myself.
Let's eliminate luck, and realize these occurrences are not luck at all, they are us. They are unique. They are our lives, and they become our stories.
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