THANKFUL FRIDAY

There have been two different incidences this month where a male driver has physically attacked me with his vehicle. Now while “physically attacked” feels a bit dramatic to say, when I think about what happened that’s exactly what it was. The first incident happened when I got over in front of a minivan and then the light changed and we all had to stop. He was more than car length away when I moved into the lane but the man driving the car was angry. He laid on his horn and then pressed the front of his van into the back of the basket that is attached to the scooter. He then proceeded to nudge my out into the intersection. It was getting really scary and I finally turned around and yelled “Please stop!”. Luckily the light changed and I was able to ditch him, but it did leave me slightly shaken.

The second incident happened this week while Josephine and I were on our way home from our walk. We were waiting for the crosswalk because even at 6:00 in the morning, Troost can be a little crazy. Plus I can’t see well enough over the hill to risk it. The light changed, my crosswalk light came on and there was a truck turning left onto Troost (moving towards us). Josephine and I stepped into the crosswalk and the truck moved into the intersection. He slowed, but then he sped up so that I had to physically jump out of the way, with him narrowly missing me. One of our neighbors who is there every morning because he rides the bus was on the other side of the street watching the whole thing in horror. I yelled at the truck and then made it across the street. My neighbor looked at me and asked if I was okay. I shakily said yeah, but then we hugged each other and started laughing. He said “OH! Thank the Lord, you’re al-right!” We then told each other to have a nice day and went on our merry ways.

I had almost forgotten about the first incident when this second one occurred, but then it dawned on me that both of these events happened in the same month. They bookend the month of October and has me questioning if this month was trying to kill me or if the universe is trying to tell me something. I am prone to move through this world oblivious to actual dangers. I am not spooked by walking down dark alleys because I can’t imagine what’s dangerous in a dark alley. A rat might scurry by? A hissing stray cat? Not really threats. I’ve always approached everything in the same way I’d approach a wasp. Leave the wasp alone and the wasp leaves you alone. It is naive. I know that, but I’ve never seen myself as the person that someone looks at and thinks “there’s my victim.” Not because I look tough or like a loud screamer, but because I believe that I am invisible.

Not for one minute do I believe that the above events are messages from the universe saying that I need to be more fearful. I am a firm believer that one of the biggest problems in today’s society is how we have and are continuing to be conditioned to be fearful of one another. Case in point: the (telephone game) story that went around about Hamas decapitating babies. Not a true story, but a nice one to spread around to make you fear and hate Hamas and thus all Palestinians. Decapitated babies is the horrible thing that remains stuck in your head and you will never grasp the idea that not all Palestinians are Hamas. It’s the same trap America fell for when we went after the Taliban. Religious fanatics only see other religious fanatics. But any way, before I fall into a rabbit hole of what Israel is doing is wrong trope, I’ll just say that we are taught to fear each other (fear leads to hate - Yoda). I refuse to listen to the universe if it’s trying to tell me to be more fearful.

Proceeding with some caution seems like more reasonable advice for me.

Maybe I needed a little rattling to open my eyes to possible dangers and some proof that I am not invisible. That neighbor? I hardly know him. I know that he and his wife and two kids live two houses east of us. Michael and I had one conversation with them late one evening when we were all standing in the street watching emergency responders clean up an accident. I know from that conversation that they used to have chickens and we swapped chicken husbandry stories. I say good morning to him every morning when I pass him at the bus stop. That’s it, but I don’t know what he or his wife do for a living. I’m not even sure I know their names but now I know he gives the greatest hugs.

Its a pretty intense way for the universe to point out the importance of making connections with the people in your community, but I’m really grateful he was there to celebrate my survival with me.