Tell me, what is it you plan to do
with your one wild and precious life?
—Mary Oliver
Time and again, I’m reminded of the fragility of life. I’ve learned specifically that as I age, more and more I have to pay attention to my body and to respond to its needs. At times when I have certain body aches come along I know I need to stretch or I have to exercise. Foot pain? Stretch those hamstrings and calves (hip flexors would be good too). Lower back? Same. Time and again, it comes down to the simple things. My wrist or hand hurts? A wrist pad to support that mouse action can make a difference. And for God’s sake! Put down that cellphone!
That I experience these discomforts once in a while is a gift.
I finished the last assignment to complete my Bachelor’s Degree on a Sunday night at the end of August. The year was 2014. I did it! It’s tough work trying to complete a major life goal like this while still working full time. And there was my involvement with the Sierra Club. I did scale back my activities but my involvement with The Club is what inspired me to complete my degree. I planned on celebrating with dinner at a nice restaurant the following Saturday night.
When the next weekend rolled along, Saturday morning found me working in West Columbia. There was an after-hours project scheduled and I needed to be there to oversee some vendors doing some work for us. The job completed, I headed home and was able to get in a quick nap before cleaning up and heading to the celebration. I don’t recall much about getting that nap in or getting ready. I vaguely remember sitting at a stoplight and I was likely a little behind for the 6 PM meetup at The Wilcox. As it turned out, I would be really late. Like a year late. That evening as I went through the intersection of the bypass, Silver Bluff and Pine Log, I was hit on the passenger side of my Jeep Wrangler. Before my vehicle stopped, it went over the hood of one car and hit another. The offending driver was under the influence and he hit me at 70 MPH. I slowly woke the next day, wiggled my toes and fingers and knew I’d be okay.
So much could have gone wrong that night. Perhaps if I would have been going slower, or faster, maybe the hit would have left me more damaged. Or maybe he would have hit someone else that was older and maybe not as strong. Grace saw to it that an ambulance station, two in fact, was less than a mile away. And it was grace that stopped a well-meaning bystander from pulling me, prematurely, out of my vehicle. As things were, the paramedics didn’t know if I was going to make it to the hospital or not. Eight days later, I walked out of what I still call MCG. The injuries? A collapsed lung and a concussion. I was beat up for sure, but all things considering, I was lucky to be alive.
I think back to that time 11 years ago from time to time, especially at times when I hear an ambulance whiz by with sirens blasting. Sometimes it’s just a thing. Sometimes I choke down tears.
I also think about this story when tragedy hits close to home like today. In the late morning, I had a doctor’s appointment and I headed my way to the office. I was annoyed to find that the bypass leading to Wire Road was blocked by a Sheriff’s car. I navigated around that and got to my destination on time. I noticed on the way back that the road was still blocked. I scratched my head and thought, what on earth are they doing? Aiken has seen a lot of road construction over the past several years, along with other infrastructure projects and I assumed that this closure was related to that. It wasn’t. When I got to my office, I learned that a co-worker in my building had died in a head-on collision with a semi this morning. I was dumbfounded. Surely this can’t be true. It slowly sinked in. I would often bump into him in the kitchen as we both sought out coffee to start our day. On other occasions, we’d stroll out the back door. I’d known this man, who was only 40, for the better part of 18 years. Not super close, just casual. I knew him enough that I saw him growing and making changes in his life. He was a husband and a father and now they will have to move forward in life without him. Do the circumstances matter? If we knew what happened the moment before the collision, would it change anything?
I turned 61 earlier this year and I’m still curious about what happened to that last decade. I heard someone say once that the years click by pretty fast, but some days seem to drag on and on and on. So true. While some days do seem to last for weeks at a time, it’s those times when I do have some choices about where to go and what to do that really squeeze the juice out of life for me. My mother, a first generation American, had a big case of wanderlust. With siblings located in the four corners of the country, we would hit the road in that great American pastime “The Summer Vacation”. And we did. From Michigan to California, Washington, Arizona and back through the southern part of the country in a big loop. These experiences weren’t lost on me. Somewhere in my mind, I decided in my late 30s, early 40s that if there was something I wanted to do that I had better do it. This has led me to Alaska, the Redwoods in California, New Mexico and places in-between. Mostly on a shoestring budget.
It was also in my 40s that I knew that feelings were impermanent. If I were to go on one adventure after another, would that really be satisfying? My only concern being ME, ME, ME? I remember coming across this quote that said, “I slept and dreamt that life was joy. I awoke and saw that life was service. I acted and behold, service was joy.” I don’t know who Rabindranath Tagore is but this idea stuck with me and I invested myself in conserving the natural world that I had come to love from the travels, the camping, hiking, and paddling I had done.
As has often been the case, when I’ve invested myself in something, I don’t go half-way. It’s all or nothing and for the past 11 months, nothing is where I’ve found myself as I’ve sought to bring balance in my life and take care of myself. I’ve seen our world slipping away these past 5, 6 or more years due to climate change, but also seeing the destruction of our lands by greedy developers. I’m a passionate, talented and robust character. As I saw this level of development descend on the CSRA and I knew I had to speak out. Not all growth is good growth and being mindful of what we want our community to look like is critical. “Where there is no vision, the people parish”. In following these passions, I drove myself into the ground. I will return to speak out for those that can’t speak or those that feel they might not have a voice at some point. For now, self-care is my focus.
In recent weeks, I’ve been going through old photos trying to cull those that don’t make the cut, as well as some duplicates. I’m so fortunate to have created some beautiful memories! Some of those memories have been solo journeys, some with friends. And some of those friends are no longer here and have left too soon. I pause and reflect on those warm memories filled with love and friendship, missing those I won’t see on this earth. Then I know it’s time to start looking for that next adventure. What river or lake awaits me and that 14 foot Wenonah Wilderness? How many days & nights could I disappear at a time? What will I plan on doing with this one wild and precious life?