maybe i didn't really almost die, but it was the closest i'd ever consciously come to death and it was much, much closer than i'd ever come before.
i really don't know why i didn't panic in those situations. i mean, i'm an avid worrier and dedicated pessimist (so they say). and i really was calculating my chances of survival. now, i can't say i made the best decisions (for instance, i didn't wave or call for help in the ocean), but i don't think i made either situation worse.
anyway, that's not what i wanted to write about. (jesus christ! whatever skill i once had for writing, i've lost it.)
as i was fighting my way back to shore and while i should have been calling for help, i found myself thinking "yeah, i might die today, but--if i don't--i'm going to have a great story to tell." and as i struggled to finish that terrible hike, i thought "well, if i die, tell my parents i was having a time!" (who says that shit, by the way?)
something changed in me that summer. maybe it's because it's the first time i ever really did anything in my life. maybe it's because i could have died. maybe it's because i realized i nearly died without doing anything worthwhile at all. i don't know.
but i find myself, now, looking at things in entirely different ways. like all this mojo stuff. that's so completely not who i was. but they were doing these outrageously fun things and i thought, "how can i not participate in that?" now i've put together a roller jam, fielded a kickball team, jumped in a frozen lake and even put myself up for auction.
i'm living life again. for the first time?
by the way, this entry really went to shit somewhere.