Sometimes I am frightened to drive, but I’ve learned to trust my autonomic nervous system.
I often have no recollection of getting from point A to point B. I sit down in that ratty brown seat, its familiar and comfortable embrace a caress on my keister as I start my lovely beat-up Toyota. It is then I get out of the car at my destination and wonder how the hell it is that I surrendured completely to my unconscious, let it take the wheels, so to say. But, hey, my best thinking is done on the road and I haven’t turned any old ladies into speed bumps… so far.
Does anyone ever do that with Life? Rush about as months flash by like the spokes of a whirring bicycle wheel, waking at the very last moment to exclaim ‘Oh! Hey, I’m dead.’