I drove in the just-fallen darkness of 441.
Modestly speeding toward my go-to meditation spot just outside of town, I was on a mission to distance myself from the ceaseless chatter of my mind.
I watched it regurgitate everything that had happened that day. It hassled me about all things I could’ve said or done better and all the looming tasks for the next day, week, year, lifetime.
I can’t be the only one who has a mind like that, right?
Via: Tumblr
A few moments after, it started to panic over my new favorite stressor, “Holy shit, there’s only 10 days left on the Kickstarter campaign. How am I going to bring in $37,000 to meet my goal?” My mind froze.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw something crawling in the shadows on the passenger side of my dashboard.
In the wave of green emanating from a traffic light I whizzed under, I saw eight, long legs approaching, and my survival instincts kicked in. Images of venomous fangs sinking into my skin flooded my imagination while I tried to reach over and squish a spider — an interloper — with an old napkin.
I missed, of course. It scuttled around, getting pissed off while my car dangerously swerved in the process.
This scene repeated itself a few times before I came to the realization that I had a better chance of dying in a car wreck than I did dying from a spider bite.
With 20-ish minutes left of the drive, I had no choice but to force myself to relax and just ride out the fear and uncertainty that came along with the massive air-breathing arthropod eying me from the dashboard.
What I discovered, beautifully enough, is that taking a long drive with my scary eight-legged friend riding shotty is not unlike being a college student.
Every day, we, the collegiate masses, are faced with the fear and uncertainty of, well, pretty much everything.
For example, choosing the “right” major cripples us with anxiety. We want to end up in a career that pays the bills of our futures and makes possible the lavish lifestyle society has brainwashed us into wanting.
Or how about sleeping around to get “the college experience,” as opposed to committing to a relationship, all the while knowing we might “waste” our time with someone who doesn’t turn out to be “the one.”
Oh, and don’t forget about defining ourselves by our fraternity or sorority or organization or sports team or friend group or appearance with the unsettling acknowledgment that none of those things are guaranteed to give us a true sense of belonging or identity.
We are either so terrified by these uncertainties that we fool ourselves into pretending they aren’t there — that there is no metaphorical spider in the car — or we become so fiercely determined to squash them from our lives with force that we dangerously swerve all over the metaphorical road and exhaust ourselves in the process.
Via: theobservereffect
With the spider still traipsing in my car and boring holes in my soul, I came to realize there is a third option: We could peacefully coexist with uncertainties, fears and insecurities by just relaxing in their presence.
Letting go of the notion that there is a way our life should be allows us to open up to the liberating reality of the way our life is right at this very moment. It’s not right. It’s not wrong. It just is.
Like the probability of me crashing while trying to kill the spider versus the probability of a fatal spider bite, fighting with your hazy future life has a bigger chance of making you miserable than actually living out your present life does.
Via: HuffPost
It’s not always easy, and it’s not always comfortable. I had moments where I peered over nervously at the giant insect, trying to anticipate its next move. Likewise, we’ll all have moments of nervously planning the next move and anxiously evaluating if we are making the “right” choices.
When I arrived safely at my destination, I calmly opened the passenger door and lingered for a moment. I gave my car one last wistful glance and watched the spider crawl out of my car and into the grass beneath it.
Who knows? Maybe if we gracefully handle life’s uncertainties and learn to be at peace with them, even when they’re terrifying, they might just vanish out the door when the moment is right.
Featured photo courtesy of: Blogspot
