I can appreciate that. I have a Borg division of siblings, in which I am Second of Seven. (Sorry if this Star Trek reference doesn’t connect.) But growing up, Fifth of Seven was sort of my apprentice. When his bad knees and feet got him booted from the air force at 19 he came to live with me. One beautiful Sunday we spent driving up the coast in his Fiat Spider. We stopped for gas less than a mile from home and on the home stretch a drunk passed out at the wheel of his big american beater and ran into us head on. I who always wear a seat belt somehow did not this time. Fifth of Seven had his on. I was in and out of consciousness many times, Rodney went into a coma from which he never emerged and doctors told my best friend who pressed them that he was brain dead. He did everything one can hope to do as the driver in that situation but there was no way to escape the collision.
I must say I attach no meaning to the fact that I survived without a seatbelt in the catapult seat while he did not. To think otherwise I’d have to believe there was meaning for him to have lost his life so young. There is no way his life was less important than mine or that he was less deserving than I. It wasn’t about me and it wasn’t about him nor do I think the drunk (who also survived) was given an important life lesson. ■■■■ happens. We all die. And yet life is very precious still and acquires the meaning we find and claim.
Very understandable and definitely a human experience which can add depth if you don’t drown in it. I’d say you seem to have kept your balance. When my brother died, I was recently separated from my first wife, after months of disability I quit my job with little thought of what I would do next and one night while returning from walking past the place where the accident had happened again I wasn’t paying attention and my first dog got run over by someone speeding out of a bar’s parking lot. She’d fallen behind to sniff something but when I heard the tires squeal I called her and she came immediately to her peril. Needless to say I have also experienced depression just this one time for about a year and a half but I didn’t seek treatment. I just read and slept a lot. I became uncomfortable around people and felt I’d become duller, less insightful. I remember reaching a point when I decided I would just let go of wishing I was what I had been and decided to just begin again and see what would happen. My life would not have been anywhere near as meaningful to me if this had not have happened. Except for losing Fifth of Seven, I have no regrets at all.
Probably for many purposes. I think the purpose of life is to serve that something more that sometimes gives you more perspective than you would have living entirely for your self chosen purposes. After the accident I lost insight into other people, myself or much of anything else. I think losing confidence in myself left me open to what I could discover by just waiting and holding a space for an answer rather than being quick to fill all the spaces in as I would have in the past. They say sometimes you have to lose yourself to find yourself but I think what I found was what gives rise to God belief. Which is good because I think I needed some help and before I got it I realized how much we all depend on what is really given as a gift but which we think of as our own doing. I still don’t think God is a separate being, it is far subtler than that. But I know there is something more and as a result I am more now than I was when I thought I was clever.
True for you is what matters. Go with that.
Amen to that. We literally swim in gifts. Nothing more is required.
I readily admit to having faith but I refuse to think I need to read about what it is I have faith in from any experts or historical eye witnesses of miracles. If it works for you, great. The main thing is to foster that relationship. You’ve done that. Believe me when it comes time to cash in my chips I won’t feel cheated in any way. I’m glad you feel the same way.