Yesterday afternoon, I had plans to meet up with some friends and their babies. I was looking forward to it all day.
When the time came to leave, I saw that a couple of inches of snow had accumulated on the roads.
I live in Boston, so two inches of snow is no big deal – or at least, I thought, it shouldn’t be.
I bundled up my daughter and strapped her into her car seat. She was unusually quiet as we set off.
I gradually became aware of a growing feeling of sadness stirring from within. Why sadness, I’m still not sure, but I knew that something just wasn’t right.
I pondered my options for a moment, then turned around and headed home. When I reached the bottom of my street, my car spun out and I lost control, skidding in a semicircle across the width of the street.
Thank God, I thought. All of the variables that could have turned this trip into a disaster were absent. No other cars on the road, no tree in my way, no children in the street. No harm to my daughter, trusting me to keep her safe in the back seat.
All of us struggle with trust at one time or another. Many of us override our internal guidance systems in order to fulfill others’ expectations of us, whether in work or in life.
I certainly felt on some level that I had failed to follow through on my commitment to attend yesterday’s playgroup.
But when I circled back with the host, she told me a car accident that had taken place two blocks from her house.
That could have been me, I realized. If I’d not trusted my instincts.