2, 4, 6, 8 Who Do We Appreciate?

I was driving on the 10 freeway going west toward Santa Monica on my way to the dentist when I looked to my left and a huge truck was getting too close to me. The driver crossed the line into my lane and I steered as far to the right as possible. He kept coming. I felt a hard bump, the car jostled, I heard a bang, and then a loud scratching sound as the truck made contact with the side of my car. It got louder, it was metal on metal as the truck driver scraped the entire left side of my car all the way from the back to the front. I beeped my horn, holding the steering wheel as tightly as I could and the truck began to head back into his own lane. But it wasn’t over. I don’t know what his problem was when he crossed my lane again and butted his truck against my car. There was that same metal crunching sound as it repeated its trajectory, ruining the entire side of my car.

I was trying to figure out how to get to the shoulder so he and I could exchange information. But he slowed down until I was well ahead of him and pulled into my lane several cars behind me. I couldn’t see his license plate or the make of his truck as he sped down the next off ramp. That was the last I saw of him.

I was uttering some sort of moaning sounds as I white-knuckled the steering wheel until I got to the Lincoln Boulevard exit. I got off the freeway and drove to the dentist’s office, listening for sputtering engine sounds or the bumping of a flat tire. Nothing. I parked and got out of my car to take a look. He had completely mangled the side of my car and the side mirror but the tires and the engine were intact.  

I went to my dentist appointment in a daze. When it was over, I took the side streets home. I had a load of things to do (with a frozen mouth) but I was surprisingly calm as I focused on the steps in front of me. File the insurance claim. Take a dozen photographs of the damage and download them for the estimate. Go to the body shop. Get a car rental. I walked through it all step by step, and by 4 PM, I was back home with a filed clam and an Audi loaner. I felt good about being so efficient and I was okay for the rest of the day and the one after that. But on the third day, I began to feel anxious. Every time I thought about the accident, I played worst case scenarios in my head. What if I had sustained a bad injury? What if I had rear-ended the car in front of me hurt a child? What if I had died?

I called a friend whom I consider a wise woman and told her all about it. She listened carefully like she always did.

“I could have died,” I said for the third time. “I feel afraid and anxious.” 

“I’m so sorry that happened to you,” she said. “It must have been really upsetting and scary but I think you’re putting yourself through some unnecessary angst here. You were okay for a couple of days but it seems like now, you’re making up stories that are scaring you. The thing is that’s it’s over and you didn’t get hurt. It’s painful to focus on what might have happened. It’s no wonder you’re anxious. You’re using up a lot of energy telling yourself about bad things that didn’t happen. And you’re suffering as if they did.”

There it was again, one of my toughest challenges in so many parts of my life. Telling myself scary stories and feeling badly because I believe them. Instead of freaking myself out, it would serve me better to appreciate the fact that I’m okay. My car wasn’t totaled. My insurance is covering most of it. I have a body shop that I trust and I can rent a car.

I know this is a personal preference, but I’m tired of hearing the word “gratitude.” I know it means something positive but it’s been so overused, it makes me cringe. Like “new age.” Or “the Universe.” These expressions seem to have taken on generic meanings that remove all the true meaning from them. I’d rather use the word “appreciation.” To me, it’s about treasuring, prizing, cherishing, valuing and being receptive when good things come my way instead of shutting down. Choosing to benefit from life’s lessons and wishing for others to benefit from them, too. Feeling relieved that terrible things haven’t happened instead of imagining the worst. There’s enough hard stuff going on in the world without fabricating more.

 One of the rewards I get from writing is viewing things though a different lens. A more appreciative one. I’ve been telling the true stories of my past on the page lately, and I appreciate all that I’ve gone through and come out the other side. I appreciate the extraordinary teachers that have come into my life along the way. My sister. My friends who love me. I appreciate my strength when I deal with unpleasant things. The way I nurtured myself when I left home at a young age. Finding the courage to train hard every day for many years to follow and accomplish my dreams of being a ballerina. Getting out of an abusive relationship when it became dangerous. Taking care of myself when I was ill and going out of my way to be there for others when I can help. Appreciation is an invitation to value who you are and all that you do.

Pema Chodron says, “One can appreciate and celebrate each moment – there is nothing more sacred. There’s nothing more vast or absolute. In fact, there is nothing more.”