Directed In Advance
A couple months back I found myself on a winding country road on some idyllic late summer evening, meandering to visit a friend for dinner. Music on, thoughts in the wind, I was in no rush to arrive. Some stranger was in a rush and crossed my path at an intersection, their car flying across the road perpendicular to me, just ahead of me, and my thoughts jumped faster than my foot to the brake pedal. Sunday drive sunset on a summer's eve "That was close." I know there are times when we can blink, take a breath, and keep singing as though nothing happened. And truly, nothing did happen: No crash, and no dramatic honking or wild gestures to signal the other driver. They had gauged the gap well enough, and I didn't slow my roll, though the train of thought that second of speed triggered was more significant. We could classify it as intrusive thoughts, those unbidden, foreboding images of accidents and crashes, actions we could take that are out of character and unimagin...