This year marks the 100th anniversary of this global celebration of animals.
For a century, people have come together to show kindness, compassion, and care for the creatures we share our planet with. The mission of World Animal Day is to raise the status of animals in order to improve welfare standards around the globe.
World Animal Day started in 1925 when German writer and activist Heinrich Zimmermann organized the first event in Berlin on March 24. The date was officially moved to October 4, the feast day of St. Francis of Assisi, in 1931, becoming an international celebration of animal welfare.
This seems like a perfect day to honor the life and legacy of Jane Goodall, who died this week of natural causes. We can aspire to follow in her footsteps and speak out for those who cannot speak for themselves.
“You cannot get through a single day without having an impact on the world around you. What you do makes a difference, and you have to decide what kind of difference you want to make.” Jane Goodall
Jane Goodall was an English primatologist and anthropologist. Regarded as a pioneer in primate ethology, she was best known for more than six decades of field research on the social and family life of wild chimpanzees at Gombe Stream National Park in Tanzania.
“The least I can do is speak out for those who cannot speak for themselves.” Jane Goodall
Animals are our teachers. They show us how to live in harmony with the rhythms of nature, how to trust our instincts, and how to be fully present in each moment.
“The greatest danger to our future is apathy.” Jane Goodall
Lately, I’ve been thinking about T-I-M-E. Time flies. I hate to be late; I like to be ON TIME. Does time really exist at all or have we been brainwashed to think iit does?
Too much thinking about time as ephemeral makes me anxious. Too much thinking about anything does the same thing. My non-logical mind has determined that TIME itself isn’t the issue; THINKING about it IS and it makes my brain melt, just like Dali’s clocks.
Salvador Dalí
“Time doesn’t exist, clocks exist. Time is just an agreed upon construct.” — David Foster Wallace
“It takes just one unattended moment for an hour to pass.” ― Sherod Santos,Square Inch Hours: Poems
Santos was born in South Carolina, graduated from San Diego State University, and studied at the University of California, Irvine. I never met him when I attended SDSU, but I knew ABOUT him; all of us who studied creative writing and poetry knew about “Rod” Santos and W.S. Merwin and Glover Davis, who was actually my professor.
David Foster Wallace was an acclaimed American writer known for his fiction, nonfiction, and critical essays that explored the complexities of consciousness, irony, and the human condition. Wallace wrote the novel Infinite Jest.
“The Persistence of Memory” is an iconic 1931 surrealist oil painting by Salvador Dalí, famous for its “melting” clocks draped over a desolate, dream-like landscape inspired by his Catalonian home. The painting uses a paranoiac-critical method to explore the subconscious, with the distorted clocks symbolizing the fluidity and subjectivity of time, influenced by Freudian psychology and potentially Einstein’s theory of relativity. From Google.
Could Leon Russell’s version of As Time Goes By be the best ever? I think so…mature Leon was awesome, too.
Is it ever too late to say you’re sorry, to make amends, to repair the damage? That’s actually today’s theme but you have to keep reading to figure out where this is all going.
When I see these guys skateboarding together, it hits hard. It fills my heart with joy but it’s also bittersweet to realize that so much time has passed. Tick. Tock.
OG skater dad is his hero right now. The kids had no idea their teacher dad could skate.
Being well-rounded and balanced is important, right?
When the original Angel Boy wanted a skateboard, I weighed the pros and cons (cos it could be dangerous) and decided that it was a way to balance his intense interest in books and school, not that academic success wasn’t critical for his future, but skateboarding helped him feel “cool” and more relatable with schoolmates. It was about the only time his head wasn’t buried in a book.
As far back as elementary school, his nickname had been “the professor”, which was actually, happily, prophetic, but he enjoyed skating so much that we worked hard to get a skatepark built in our city and also created an Explorer Post to be eligible for donations which eventually funded the members on a state-wide skatepark trip, which was EPIC.
There was a skate shop near school where the kids would hang out and that’s where they met some of the famous skaters from SoCal: Danny Way, Hawk (of course), Sal Masekela, and Muska. Angel Boy even named his kitty after Muska.
It was a really nice time to be a kid, before our stupid little town ruined it all by rampant overdevelopment.
Here he is, nicely executing a flip. I can’t count the probably thousands of times this move had been practiced and failed and practiced again until he was proficient. What my mom brain sees in this photo is that he’s not wearing ANY protective gear. It’s a miracle he only ended up with one concussion and a couple of broken bones. No one wore helmets or knee/arm/wrist guards back then. What were we thinking?
The original Angel Boy
During high school, at the height of his interest in skating, we built a half-pipe in the backyard and our house was the cool place to be. I was kept busy supplying the kids with cookies and smoothies. #goodtimes #smothermother
Then there were many inevitable graduations and milestones; a doctorate and post-doc; an empty nest. The skate ramp was silent and began to deteriorate as it was never used nor maintained.
An executive decision was made to have it dismantled because it was in such poor, sad, unsafe shape.
At one point, when AB came home and saw it was gone, he was NOT at all happy. He felt that he hadn’t been included nor consulted in the conversation and not only was it a surprise, but I think it represented the end of a happy chapter in his life.
Actually, over the years I had explained to him a few times that he needed to help maintain it if he still wanted to use it, and like most things I said, he either didn’t listen (or ignored me), but in hindsight I agree that I could have been more sensitive. I guess I didn’t know how much it meant to him. It was an important rite of passage.
But I did something even worse…
I got rid of his skateboard! I didn’t do it with malice, honestly!
One day I was cleaning out the garage and thought it was never again going to be an activity he was interested in so I set it out near the street. I literally had no idea that he would ever want it for any reason; to ride or for the memories of all the fun he had skating OR to share with any future children…
But I was wrong…I was such a bad mom!
During a visit home, he asked for his skateboard because he wanted to show the kids some of his cool moves and when I told him I had put it out in the driveway and someone took it, he was SO ANGRY!
I fully understand that he felt betrayed and I felt horrible about it, especially since I’m known for never throwing anything away. Why that? I have no idea, but I did, I admit it.
I’ve been trying to make amends for the last twenty years. Yup, that was all about twenty years ago.
And now I’m offered the opportunity to make it right.
His clone, AB 2.0, is now obsessed with skateboarding!! He went to a skate camp this summer and got his very first real skateboard. Like all the sports he’s tried, he has some real talent, just like his dad. Watch out, Tony Hawk!
Is there anything more adorable than seeing a little guy all decked out in a helmet and safety gear, positioning himself to drop in? I think not.
Bad pic from a video AB 2.0
In this case, it’s not too late to make amends because I was finally able to replace AB’s sk8board and that feels good.
I did it. I made amends. I bought the skateboard; I made the necessary reparations and repaired the bad mom damage.
Even better, I was able to watch those guys skate together which is such a mom/grandma moment. Heart is bursting with love!
(And hopefully, Dad WILL wear his helmet at all times, or I’ll hear about it when the kids call me to tattle on him.)
Sometimes it’s not too late. All is takes is thehonest willingness to want to make things right, even two decades later.
This afternoon I took out the trash as school was being dismissed (I live near an elementary school), and at the same time, the postman drove up to deliver the mail.
Mostly blocking my driveway was a gigantic SUV which meant the postman literally had to stop in the middle of the street which is where I met him so he wouldn’t have to leave his vehicle.
The SUV’s back gate was open, as well as all the doors, apparently because the parents decided it was a good time to clean out their gas-guzzling monstrosity.
I said to them, “Why don’t you pull up? You’re blocking my driveway and you have plenty of room in front of you.”
The mom (I guess it was the mom) said, “We’re just here to pick up our kids from school”, as if that information was at all relevant or important to me. (Which it was NOT.)
I said, “How is that my concern? You still can’t block anyone’s driveway. Move your car.” (I’m assertive like that.😀)
And so they did. You could tell they thought about arguing with me and/or defying my directive, but the postman was a witness, so they grudgingly pulled up a few feet.
But it begs the bigger question about entitlement, consideration, and basic courtesy. No wonder the kids in my town feel they can recklessly — and without regard for anyone else–ride their stupid ebikes in the middle of the street defying all traffic and safety rules when they have annoying parents like this who feel so narcissistically privileged that they’re entitled to encroach on one’s property and then don the victim cape when they’re told to move. How RUDE!
There’s lots of conversations lately about entitled people. Entitled people believe they are inherently deserving of special treatment without considering others.
For example, why should I, a complete stranger, care one iota about whether they’re picking up their kids from school as if that should somehow ameliorate or excuse the action of blocking MY driveway? Not my kids, not my problem, especially when they could have simply checked before they stopped and pulled up a few more feet. They had plenty of room.
In fact, a vehicle cannot legally park directly in front of or across someone’s driveway in California, as it is a violation of California Vehicle Code 22500. One can contact local parking enforcement or the police department to have the vehicle ticketed and towed at the owner’s expense.
I have no patience for these types of selfish people who think the world revolves around them in their egocentric illusion balloon. An egocentric illusion refers to the psychological bias where individuals perceive the world, their internal states, and their actions from a self-centered perspective.
I was more than happy to burst that balloon for them. Perhaps they’ll be more considerate in the future, wherever they park, hopefully not here. Maybe I’ll get a sign like this if it happens again.
Photo from Google. Not my house, but same situation.
Stop acting like entitled a-holes and model decent behavior to your children! Is that too much to ask?
Because both of the Angel Kids’ eyes literally roll back in their heads when I make them listen to Leon Russell music, I found a slightly obscure song called “Too Much Monkey Business”. It’s more spoken than sung, like a precursor to rap music, and was written by Chuck Berry in 1956.
I played it and the Angels started singing along, as it’s a very catchy tune. I’d call out “How much monkey business” and they’d respond, “Too much monkey business!”
This song is totally earworm-worthy because they couldn’t stop singing it to themselves. All day long, during breakfast and helping to organize their books so we could donate some, I heard them quietly repeat “too much monkey business”, or “too much for me to be involved in.”
I said, “Cool song, huh?” as I planned my final move in my neverending quest to make them love Leon as much as I do.
When we sat on the sofa together after dinner playing card games, I asked Siri to play “Too Much Monkey Business” by Leon Russell and AB said, “Wait, that was LEON? It didn’t sound like him!” I replied, “That was my little joke. You had no idea you were singing one of his songs hahahahaha!”
Too late to stop it from happening; the lyrics are firmly embedded in their brains. They changed the words to: “How much Grandma business?” and “Too much Grandma business.”
They grudgingly agreed it was GOOD but asked me to pleasepleaseplease stop dancing because I was embarrassing them. I can only imagine the many ways I’ll be an embarrassment when they’re teenagers. It’s a rite of passage. They can ask their dad for confirmation.
Those kids are uber funny but I won. They’re now listening to and appreciating the Master of Space and Time–in spite of themselves. My work here is done.
Runnin’ to and fro, hard workin’ at the mill Never failed in the mail, yet come a rotten bill Too much monkey business, too much monkey business Too much monkey business for me to be involved in
Salesman talking to me tryin’ to run me up a creek Say, “You can buy it, go on, try it, you can pay me next week” ah Too much monkey business, too much monkey business Too much monkey business for me to be involved in
Blonde-haired, good lookin’ tryin’ to get me hooked Want me to marry, get a home, settle down, write a book, ha Too much monkey business, too much monkey business Too much monkey business for me to be involved in
Same thing every day, gettin’ up, goin’ to school No need to be complainin’, my objections overruled, ah Too much monkey business, too much monkey business Too much monkey business for me to be involved in
Payphone, somethin’ wrong, dime gone, will mail I ought to sue the operator for tellin’ me a tale, ah Too much monkey business, too much monkey business Too much monkey business for me to be involved in
I been to Yokohama, been fightin’ in the war Army bunk, army chow, army clothes, army car, ah Too much monkey business, too much monkey business Too much monkey business for me to be involved in
Workin’ in the fillin’ station, too many tasks Wipe the windows, check the tires, check the oil, dollar gas, ah Too much monkey business, too much monkey business I don’t want your botheration, get away, leave me be
These incredibly observant Angel Kids of mine are full of nonstop chat as they watch my every move with their laser focused eyes and brains, especially when they sit at the counter (their favorite spot), waiting to be served exactly like baby birds in a nest with their beaks open wide for mom to bring a freshly caught worm..
“Why are you always in the kitchen, Grandma?”“It’s like you have a force field around you and you’re stuck in there.” (He is SO funny.)
“Yeah, Grandma, you’re always in the kitchen!” Angel Girl has to offer her opinion, too. ALWAYS.
I stop chopping veggies or flipping pancakes or cutting the crust off another slice of bread (only for Angel Girl), and respond with a question,
“Why are you guys always hungry?”
Well, that made them think a bit, that’s for sure.
“Good point”, Angel Boy 2.0 sagely nods as he ponders what I meant by that, as he chews on a slice of apple.
Those kids LOVE apples as a pre-meal snack. Sometimes dipped in nut butter, but they’re perfectly satisfied with a bowl of sliced apples.
The key is to give each of them their own bowl or they’ll squabble about equal amounts. “Why does s/he have more than me?” Since I only birthed one child, I’m not used to this kind of sibling behavior. I actually find it incredibly annoying and to avoid listening to it, for me, separate bowls are the easiest solution.
They eat a lot, not junk food or snacks, but wholesome and dense nutrition. That’s what healthy kids do; eat, play, sleep. They’re exactly like puppies. Their growing bodies and brains demand it and I’m only too happy to oblige.
“Play with us, Grandma. We’ll even play Candyland just for you. Or Scrabble.” That’s quite the concession on their part, as they know those are my two favorite games.
“How about after you guys have this smoothie and ants on a log and a (lentil/oat/kale) muffin, we’ll play. How does that sound?”
Early this morning, I opened the back door and walked on the deck. Near the steps, I saw a motionless bee which I gently nudged with a stick and found him able to move ever so slightly. I brought him a small amount of water in a jar lid and watched as he thirstily inhaled a few drops. As soon as he had enough, he stumbled down the rest of the steps to a shady area on the ground.
I’m not sure if I helped him or simply prolonged the inevitable, but at least I did something to aid a living creature and that always feels good.
Later that morning, I went to the grocery store where I picked up some yummy cherries and cucumbers and avocados.
The woman in front of me had a lot of items and it looked like she was making a special dinner, maybe anniversary, or at least that was the little story I told myself as I patiently waited my turn.
I noticed that she didn’t have her own shopping bags and I watched the clerk take out a couple “store” bags and fill them with her food. After the food was paid for, the employee asked her for thirty cents to pay for the bags, which was really odd because usually they’ll ask before, so they can add it to the total. Right??? So my spidey senses were on alert as I observed the conversation.
The lady became flustered as she looked in her handbag because she didn’t have any cash or change. I could see that she was super embarrassed and I could totally relate. It didn’t seem as if she was unsheltered or didn’t have money; she was well dressed with great jewelry (I always notice stuff like that).
I said, “Let me check. I think I have thirty cents.” I usually don’t have ANY cash or coins either, but I did locate enough to pay for her store bags.
The poor woman was beside herself with gratitude, wanted to pay me back, couldn’t believe I would do that for a complete stranger, asked me my name, WAY overly intensely thankful and appreciative for a mere handful of coins.
I told her it was my pleasure to help and it wasn’t as if I offered to buy her food (haha) and she could pay it forward to someone else in the future and keep the good deed moving along.
Because her gratitude seemed oddly disproportionate, I thought it was possible that she had a bad day and my minor act of kindness gave her a bit of hope — who knows.
She did seem close to breaking down, poor dear. And all for THIRTY CENTS! I wonder if this was some sort of low rent scam so the employee could pocket the money, but that was most likely not the case. Anyway, it was a strange encounter and I was glad to help because it did seem that was the only way I was going to get out of the store, haha. (BTW, I had my own bags.)
Sometimes I’ll see someone do a kind but simply mundane gesture and I’ll just get filled with this unexplainable joy that someone did something nice for someone else with no strings attached; no ulterior motives, no agenda.
After that experience, I went to Sprouts because I was out of probiotics (I love probiotics). The woman in front of me in line (same scenario!) turned to me. She held out a couple pieces of candy wrapped in shiny gold foil and asked me if I wanted them. She said they were free and pointed to where she got them, somewhere else in the store.
I told her how much I LOVE free things (I really do) but asked why she didn’t want them. She explained that she had tasted another one and they were milk chocolate and she only likes dark chocolate. I said I like all variety of chocolate (except white) and gladly accepted her little gifts.
Two acts of kindness were immediately repaid by another; what a great (and sweet) day!
One minute I’m searching for seashells or a rock that speaks to my heart or I’m reveling in a designer treasure found at the local consignment shop after a day protesting that orange POS and the fall of democracy, yet at the same time, on any given day, I’m a voracious reader, whether it’s chick lit or poetry or something that catches my eye on social media, all the while obsessing over Leon Russell, Master of Space and Time. There are definitely many tabs open on my laptop screen (and in my head).
Like this…thought-terminating clichés.
How many times have you heard this (or said it)? “Everything happens for a reason.” Did you find it helpful or frustrating? I find it frustrating and not helpful AT ALL. It makes me feel the person I’m talking to either doesn’t care about what I’m saying or is trying to act superior and patronizing.
For me, that attitude completely terminates the conversation. Sometimes I respond with “Does it really? Does everything REALLY happen for a reason?” but mostly I simply stop talking. There’s nowhere to go after that; for me It’s a convo-ender.
A thought-terminating cliché is a common saying or phrase used to shut down further critical thinking or debate about a topic. These phrases often present themselves as universally accepted truths or wisdom, discouraging deeper exploration or questioning. They can be used in various contexts, including conversations, debates, and even within workplaces or religious groups.
The term was popularized by Robert Jay Lifton in his 1961 book Thought Reform and the Psychology of Totalism, who referred to the use of the cliché, along with “loading the language”, as “the language of non-thought”.
It’s also known as a semantic stop-sign, a thought-stopper, bumper sticker logic, or cliché thinking and is a form of loaded language—often passing as folk wisdom—intended to end an argument and quell cognitive dissonance with a cliché rather than a point. Some such clichés are not inherently terminating, and only becomes so when used to intentionally dismiss, dissent, or justify fallacies.
1. “It is what it is.” Used to dismiss any deeper inquiry into a situation or problem.
2. “You’ll figure it out.” Used to avoid helping or being asked for help. Condescending.
3. “Boys will be boys.” – Used to excuse or dismiss male behavior, often inappropriate or immature.
4. “Let’s agree to disagree.” Used to end a debate without resolving the underlying disagreement.
5. “Everything happens for a reason.” Used to shut down further questioning about why something occurred.
6.””Only time will tell.” Used to avoid making a decision or judgment about a situation.
7. “Such is life.” Used to dismiss the complexities or frustrations of a situation as being typical or unavoidable.
8. “What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger.” Used to trivialize suffering or hardship without addressing its impact.
9. “God works in mysterious ways.” Used to stop questions about religious or moral issues that are difficult to explain.
10. “It’s a free country.” Used to justify questionable actions or opinions without further discussion.
11. “You can’t win them all.” Used to discourage further effort or reflection after a failure or loss.
12. “Better safe than sorry.” Used to justify overly cautious behavior without considering the consequences of inaction.
13. “Everything in moderation.” Used to avoid discussing the nuances or dangers of certain behaviors or choices.
14. “That’s just your opinion.” Used to dismiss someone’s perspective or argument without considering its merits.
15. “Let’s not rock the boat.” Used to discourage change or questioning of the status quo.
16. “This is the way we’ve always done it.” Used to resist change or new ideas without considering their potential benefits.
17. “Time heals all.” Completely puts a stop to any discussion that isn’t in agreement.
To transform thought-terminating clichés into conversation catalysts, we can create alternative phrases or questions that encourage further exploration and dialogue.
Here are some antidotes, each designed to open up rather than shut down conversations:
Instead of “It is what it is”:Ask, “What factors have led to this situation, and how can they be addressed?”
Instead of “Boys will be boys”:Query, “What behaviors are we accepting, and why, and how can we foster more responsible actions?”
Instead of “We agree to disagree”:Suggest, “Let’s delve into our differing viewpoints to understand each other better.”
Instead of “Everything happens for a reason”:Pose, “What can we learn from this situation, and how might it influence our future choices?”
Instead of “Only time will tell”:Consider, “What potential outcomes can we anticipate, and how can we prepare for them?”
Instead of “Such is life”:Reflect, “How does accepting this situation impact us, and are there aspects we can change or influence?”
Instead of “What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger”:Explore, “What challenges are we facing, and how can we grow or learn from them?”
Instead of “God works in mysterious ways”:Ask, “How can we find meaning or understanding in this situation?”
Instead of “It’s a free country”:Discuss, “How do our individual actions impact others, and where do we draw the line between freedom and responsibility?”
Instead of “You can’t win them all”:Consider, “What can we learn from this loss, and how can it inform our future efforts?”
Instead of “Better safe than sorry”:Ponder, “What are the risks and benefits of our choices, and how do we balance caution with opportunity?”
Instead of “Everything in moderation”:Question, “How do we find a healthy balance, and what does moderation look like in this context?”
Instead of “That’s just your opinion”:Offer, “I appreciate your perspective. Can you share more about how you arrived at this viewpoint?”
Instead of “Let’s not rock the boat”:Encourage, “What potential benefits and challenges could come from addressing this issue?”
Instead of “This is the way we’ve always done it”:Propose, “What new methods or ideas could we consider to improve this situation?”
Curated from desireebstephens.substack.com/p/the-power-of-silence-unpacking-thought, Wiki
Feinting is a deceptive or pretended blow, thrust, or other movement, especially in boxing or fencing.
Fainting, or syncope, is what I experienced a couple months ago. I definitely wasn’t feinting when I got dizzy, nauseous, fell, and hit the fireplace. The loss of consciousness felt really weird and not entirely unpleasant.
I thought it was simply an unexplained but strange incident, and finally told my doctor about it.
Her response to me was, “Of course you went to the ER, what did they say? I don’t see that in your notes.”
I replied, “Oh no, I didn’t go anywhere and I didn’t call the paramedics, either, because I was wearing my Hello Kitty jammies. No way was I going to let anyone see me.”
She shook her head and laughed as I explained to her that my RN mom had often drilled into my head that I should never EVER go to the doctor or a hospital unless I was well dressed and nicely groomed– and always with pretty underwear. I mean, there might be scenarios where that’s impossible, but her words are tattooed in my brain.
Of course I would have sought immediate medical help if it happened again, but so far I’ve been lucky.
My doc said her mom was exactly the same, so she understood. However, after asking me a lot of questions, she was concerned enough about my syncope episode to want to rule out any underlying and serious reasons, so she gave me an electrocardiogram and referred me to radiology for a carotid artery ultrasound.
The ECG looked OK and I’ve booked the appointment for the ultrasound to see how my four carotid arteries are performing. Most of the time I think I’m pretty smart but I didn’t know there were FOUR carotids–I thought there was only one, so I’ve learned something. Hopefully, we can rule out any underlying blockages to explain why I fainted. The worse case scenario is that a blocked artery can lead to an increased stroke risk or an aneurysm, but at least I’ll find out one way or another.
The best case scenario is that it was a singular vasovagal syncope episode with no lasting harm. Fingers crossed. Maybe I will actually have “feinted” and dodged a direct hit. That’s funny to think about, but then I’ve been accused of being easily amused…
Since then, my goal has been to mindfully dress for the emergency that might never happen; a personal version of disaster preparedness.
This all happened quite a while ago, but I realized I hadn’t shared it, so here’s the scary story of my almost brush with death; a cautionary tale of the time I might have starred in a Dateline episode.
I had to be somewhere very early, too early to inconvenience anyone by asking for a ride, so I called a car service. I’ll be vague about which one, but it’s one of the big guys.
It was dark; I waited outside, the driver was on time. The first thing I noticed (red flag number one) is that the car stopped and he started it up again. I thought maybe he was saving gas, so didn’t really think too much about it. We had a few stop signs on the way to the freeway and the engine stalled at every one of them and had to be started back up. (red flag number two). I was a bit concerned and that’s probably when I should have told him to turn around and found another form of transportation but I didn’t.
The driver spoke no English. I mean, ZERO. I managed to learn that he was from Colombia. I could see the Google map on his phone was in Spanish. I spoke a bit of Spanish so we were able to sort of communicate.
Finally on the freeway, his car was going VERY SLOW, well under the speed limit. The engine hadn’t stalled again, though. (another red flag.)
The driver wore very thick glasses and seemed to have a difficult time seeing the road as he was slightly weaving out of his lane. It’s a good thing that it was so early with not many cars on the road. I don’t think he was drunk; I think he couldn’t SEE the road. (red flag!)
The headlights also seemed to be malfunctioning; he’d turn them off and on and the car would sort of slow down and speed up, which was reallyreally freaking me out.
I was beginning to get a little more panicky every second, and even more so when, for some reason, he took the wrong exit on the freeway. We were in a rural area that was heavily wooded- no houses, no stores; nothing.
The very worst case scenarios were running through my head at warp speed. We were on a frontage road with no lights and no people. I thought there was a good possibility that I was going to be the victim of a horrible crime, I really did.
If the worst happened, no one would find me out in the middle of nowhere on a dark, deserted highway. I was petrified, thinking of all the horror stories I had heard about getting in cars with strangers.
Loudly, I commanded, “HEY! This is the wrong exit. GET BACK ON THE FREEWAY NOW!”
I had my hand on the door and 911 ready to be called on my phone. I was ready to bolt and run. I was terrified.
For a brief moment that seemed to last for days, he hesitated, and then, thankfully, turned around. We got back on the freeway, and at which point he was completely lost. I had to direct him the rest of the way to my ultimate destination but not before his car stalled AGAIN at the final stoplight.
I leapt out of his car while it was still slightly moving and RAN into the building. It took forever for my heart rate to subside and the adrenaline to stop pouring through my body. I was as shaky as the time I got an EpiPen for a bee sting. I had to force myself to breathe and slowly regained my calm.
There were so many red flags 🚩🚩🚩🚩🚩🚩 that I ignored. Never again!
Friends have asked me if I reported the driver. I thought about it, but I didn’t. Although it was scary, nothing bad actually happened. I was so grateful to be alive and unharmed that I wanted to forget all about it. However, I don’t think his vehicle was going to last much longer, so maybe he’ll figure out that driving people around isn’t the right career choice.
The lesson is to listen to your gut in all life circumstances. If something doesn’t feel right, it most likely is a warning that should be heeded.
I am 1000% grateful that the universe and all the angels once again protected me from harm.
Enchanted Seashells | Princess Rosebud 