Considering the personal nature of the blog, and the nature of the somewhat less-important-in-the-larger-scale-of-things topics I usually discuss (which, obviously, I find perilously important for life), it makes sense to write about the recent carcrash I experienced.
Which angle should I take on? The adrenaline kicking my perception of life into another frame? The fright of setting a foot outside my door and the general pile of arguments against ever doing so? The relieved, almost religious, realization that everything is all right?
It matters little. The whole affair passes quickly and the most interesting thing about it was that right after hearing the crash, and being pushed forward and then pulled back by the seatbelt, my first thought was: “Now dad has another thing to worry about. How should I break this to him?”
My next thought was whether anything had happened to my back and if I’d be able to compete in the pole championship next week.
Such trivial thoughts, but they put life and the accident in a neat frame, the frame called “narrow, personal perspective”. It’s what a writer calls Point Of View. And so we can give it different names and argue about the meaning of a perfectly meaningless incident.
To quote Austen: “The whole thing will pass – no doubt faster than it should.”
(By the way, nobody was hurt)