I drove to Philadelphia on Thursday—the first long journey I’ve made since the accident in June (and, of course, along the same route). I had a tense drive through heavy rain, fog and traffic. In Cumberland, just a few miles from where I was hit, I came upon an accident. The police were preparing to re-route traffic and, somehow, I was placed about fifteen feet from the wrecked car; I sat for twenty minutes watching paramedics remove the driver, place her on a stretcher and leave the scene. I sat watching, remembering, feeling for her. I seem to have an audience with these matters; it was not especially disturbing but it does give me more to consider.
Yet all the trucks and their cargo hurry on; we must ship the products from one place to the other. Hurry.
This week I’m making a promotional video for a non-profit here in the city; they’ve historically worked up and down Germantown Ave. I drove down Germantown yesterday into North Philadelphia; I’ve been away for three years and—I’ve been all over the world—the human condition suffers; we have only seconds remaining to consider it. We are in a vehicle about to lose control on a sliding surface.
I’m just not feeling especially hopeful today; I want to be aware of reality and in many ways I am. Is there a threshold that one should not cross or would the world change its spiritual axis if we were all more so? Which way shall we slide?