Categories: General
Date: Jun 21, 2012
Title: Hesitation: change comes unexpectedly
By JONATHAN SCHERER
It is tempting fate to be dissatisfied with any one aspect of your life. Most of us are unhappy on more than one front. It is best to remember that should we lack contentment with what we have, change will happen; even if it’s not how we intended. Sometimes that change comes in the form of loss, where as we have less than we started out with. There we are faced with reality. What we had suddenly wasn’t so bad after all, and fearing change for better or worse, we cling to disbelief, wanting it back desperately.
By JONATHAN SCHERER
It is tempting fate to be dissatisfied with any one aspect of your life. Most of us are unhappy on more than one front. It is best to remember that should we lack contentment with what we have, change will happen; even if it’s not how we intended. Sometimes that change comes in the form of loss, where as we have less than we started out with. There we are faced with reality. What we had suddenly wasn’t so bad after all, and fearing change for better or worse, we cling to disbelief, wanting it back desperately.
The status quo can even be misery, yet it is what we’ve become accustomed to. So there is nothing wrong with wanting more in some ways. It motivates us, driving us to aspire to more. It creates ambition and fortitude.
There are some downfalls to want though. We can become obsessed or simply lose perspective. Eventually, nothing in life satisfies us. We’re unhappy indeterminate of our circumstances. Most people find that their wants are a blend of the necessary, born of the positive forces that drive one to do better in life and then the less magnanimous wishes for more self-gratifying aspects. The greater we want things of material or personal pride to be our fulfillment, the more life will remind us just how insignificant those things are. In the grand scheme of things it’s the more down to earth and immediate pieces of our lives that matter most, ironic as they often seem obscure or ambiguous amidst our daily pace, or should I say race, toward the horizon of lofty goals. It isn’t until one has faced the loss of these that they gain that perspective.
Still, such life lessons fade despite their initial impact. We’re like children that cannot retain common sense, learned well from experience, our lesser impulses overriding both our attention span and intelligence. Ignorance cannot be called on as an excuse. Excuses are the bricks from which we build walls to protect ourselves from the consequences and responsibility for our actions.
Want not more than you deserve, but work to deserve more instead. As you become a person worthy of the things you think you want you will attain the things you actually need, and you’ll realize that wanting is an empty appetite that cannot be fulfilled. There is always something more. Fill your cups with more lasting water with which to quench your thirst.
I learned this lesson and struggle not to forget it, each day losing a bit more of my grasp on the perspective I gained. Perhaps it is a conscious choice one makes, never to let that go completely. The rigors of life cannot force you to lose sight of wisdom. Hold onto every shred you have because you earn them each, and they will last you far longer than money or possessions.
At the first of December the Texan was hosting the photo shoot for the cover page of the annual Christmas Special Section of the newspaper. On a crisp, clear Saturday I set out to make this appointment. Snow had fallen the night before leaving the world with a layer of white, on the grass, trees and anything not directly at ground level. Temperatures hadn’t dipped far enough to allow for any lasting accumulation, especially not on the pavement. At least this was the case in the Dalhart city proper.
I’d driven on patchy roads before, but as I turned off of Hwy. 87 onto 102(North Sedan) I saw no reason to shift my Jeep into full-time four wheel drive. The road was clear, and the sun shining down onto the tarmac without any signs of ice or snow.
My confidence was high in any case because this weather was nothing, surely, when compared to what I’d been through before. I drove to Washington State and back in December of 2008, making my way into Spokane after the governor had declared a state of emergency due to the unusual snowfall. More snow had fallen that December than had in the past 50 years. The interstate was a mess, where as only one lane on either side was passable, and even that was under examination. I was in full-time four wheel drive for this trip.
I’d started out in Butte, Montana. What was supposed to be a five hour trip ended up taking over eight hours. Conditions were just that bad. Often traffic slowed to a standstill, especially when going up the passes. At one point a semi truck was sliding backwards down the grade toward me, and I had no other choice but to pull into the left lane and move around it, the tires spinning as it slipped down the treacherous incline.
That was something else as the transition from several inches of snowy slush on top of ice, in various stages of melting and refreezing, churned up as it was by traffic, made the maneuver even more hair raising. The snowy mess in the left lane was twice as deep as the one traffic was traveling in. Having to do this all going up a rise definitely added to its level of difficulty. I made it up and around by some miracle and then through many more such scary obstacles. When I finally arrived in Spokane, with my defective Garmin I’d received for Christmas trying to send me careening off a turn from an icy off ramp that didn’t exist and then getting me lost completely in the city, I was just glad to be alive. Well, I was once I’d made it to the hotel and pulled my white-knuckled hands from the steering wheel.
So yes, I’d been through far worse than this. I got her up to cruising speed, 68 mph, and set cruise control to take over. Cruise control and new steering components made the drive easy. I’d just had a new radiator put in the day before as well. So my Jeep was finally coming together after a very rough year of near constant replacement parts and repairs.
This initial convenience would prove to be folly, not only my over confidence but my trust in cruise control when road conditions could change drastically in a very short period. I should have known this, but complacency and time, time since I’d experienced that nasty winter of 2008 in the Pacific Northwest, had dulled the sharpness of my memories not to mention sense.
I saw a patch of white covering the road a ways ahead, but from so far off it didn’t appear in the least bit threatening. The wind was blowing from the north, gusting over 40mph, and it was indeed cold; quite enough so before factoring in the wind chill. On top of that, the humidity was relatively high for the area, hovering in the 70% range.
As I said, I saw it, and my thought was to disengage cruise control with a gentle depression of the brake pedal and decelerate automatically. Hundreds of feet pass rather quickly when traveling at close to 70mph. I no sooner had these thoughts than I hit the snow, and where I’d presumed it to be only a dusting over the rough asphalt, it actually turned out to be quite a bit deeper. I never went out and took measurements, but it was enough to send me fishtailing down the road.
Fortunately, no one was nearby either in front or behind me. I was able to keep the ol’ Jeep on the highway for a time, but I couldn’t respond fast enough. The part of my mind I’d told to disengage cruise control only a second or so before couldn’t get past trying to keep the Jeep from sliding off the road. I countered the slide first this way and then that, nearly turning full circles and then correcting, the engine just pumping out power to the rear tires with nary a clue of my predicament. More modern vehicles would have sensed the slide, throttled back the engine’s power, braked the slipping wheels, saving me from myself I suppose. This was not a modern vehicle. It was a 1997 Grand Cherokee. She was not to be stopped. I had cruise control on! Oh yes, it was pushing me along, right to my doom. Our doom, I should say.
I think part of it was my habit of using the cancel button on the steering wheel verses the brake to shut off cruise control. The two impulses warred within me, all the while my hands grasping with a death grip onto the steering while as I tried to keep the Jeep on the highway. It’s easy to think of this all in retrospect, but at the time I had no such luxury.
I saw myself going off the road before it happened, and people are right, everything really does slow down in such an instance. I thought to myself that as soon as I hit the snow in the ditch I’d just shift into four wheel low and pull myself up and out of there.
So much for wishful thinking. The Jeep and me in it hit that ditch with the front, right tire and went over. One roll and then another half, sliding on the snow like a giant toboggan, we careened into an open field. At least a fence hadn’t gotten in the way.
I came to my senses soon after everything stopped, the chaos becoming quiet but for the hum of the fuel pump still trying to pump gas to the engine in order to maintain that speed of 68mph. The engine wasn’t running from what I recall, but there is no fuel cut off in the case of a roll over as newer vehicles have. I disengaged my seatbelt, yes, they do save lives, and gathered my wits. A good Samaritan stopped to see if I was all right, and I was able to pull the hood release so they could disconnect the battery. That stopped the fuel pump. The key wouldn’t turn to the ‘off’ position in the ignition for whatever reason. I imagine the Jeep’s systems were a little confused after everything that’d happened.
Other passersby were good enough to help me gather my possessions before the wrecker loaded up my Jeep, and they even gave me a ride. People will surprise you with their kindness, especially when you most need it.
I relate this story as a means of reflection. I’d argued with myself for months over whether I should keep the Jeep or get something new, wanting something better that wasn’t always needing fixed. Yet it had become a part of me over the nearly five years I’d owned it. I’d put blood, sweet and more than a little money into what I’d come to know as a friend. A contrary one sure, but she was a constant companion through a lot of history in my life. Yes, that was it, history. Suddenly that was gone. Even now it’s hard to face that. Something can just be gone in an instant. Yet as I reflect, I realize that my dissatisfaction was an empty longing. I ended up realizing only after it was too late how much my Jeep meant to me, and quirks and all I’d have her back instantly if it were possible. She, well, you always call your Jeep a lady. Isn’t that right?
I’m glad to be alive after my brush with death and now better understand the value of what I have as opposed to what I think I want. Change happened, and my ‘wish’ was granted. I drive something newer now, and the spirit I took for granted before in my Jeep is gone. The most important things are rarely cherished when we have them. At least now I realize how fragile life is, and so I will value it. I’m not going to waste anymore of my days in complacency. Nor will I endeavor for change that is so shallow. Motivate yourself with good intent and hold onto the things that truly matter. This is a lesson I have learned through hardship. I impart it now unto the reader in the hope that my wisdom, if I’m so presumptuous to call it that, will help lead others from such folly.
God watches over us every day. He guides us and leads the way. It’s in our resistance that we fall, but He shall forever heed our call. If we need, we must only ask, and He’ll assist with any task. …Let us be forever grateful.
By the way, I made it to the photo shoot only an hour late and was still presentable but for a little glass in my ears and hair from the shattered driver’s window.