More Than 9 Lives of Luck!
Substance is not enough, accident is also required. ~ Italian Proverb
Last Sunday l wrote Part 1 to this post about “Why am l still here” which raised a few comments – l suppose, why are any of us here? Might be a better question. But it’s not the first time l have addressed this question with regards my life – however after reading part 1 a few people made mention to possible answers.
Am l just a survivor of misfortume, is it purely bad luck to be this accidental? I am clumsy and many things can be written off under that title – unthinking is a classic mistake of mine. I see C, before l see B after leaving the base plate of A. Most people tend to see the sequence of ABC where as l and other cup winners of clumsy see AC ooops B!
My first major accident was quite beyong my control, my Father dropped me from a height of six foot when l was ten months old, and l bounced on my head. An emergency trip to the hospital didn’t even reveal a bruise, just a remark of “Lucky fellow your Son, a fall of that height could have snapped his neck in two and his head saved the day!”
Fancy that, l have a rubber ball head!!
Sadje suggested that we exist within life to live in a surviving way. Okay, interesting theory. Our mind and spirit keeps us going. Melanie suggested that these things happen because it is the way of life, and Myth suggested further that perhaps it is the result of purely living a blessed life.
Is that it then? That l am a charmed survivor leading the life of the blessed?
So some things you can wipe out purely as unthinking, clumsy, accidental and bad luck, but how about the other things? How about the ones that are darker, and more perhaps sinister? Is it a case of ‘fate’ that it wasn’t my time. Li suggested that God wasn’t finished with torturing me yet. Another interesting theory? If not fate, is it Karma, swinging around to bite me in the ass?
My second major clumsiness was handling red back spiders at the age of five when living in Australia, but as they didn’t bite me, l cannot really include that. my parents oft remarked that l was very lucky to not have been bitten. That’s not good luck, l was just careful.
I would say my closest shave with death came when l was seven and fell down a monsoon drain in Malaysia, and was swept out to sea. Perhaps it was luck there that instead of my unconscious body taking the underground left sewer that would have led further inland, that the currents took me towards the sea where l was hauled out by my expectant father. I had fallen into a hole whilst butterfly hunting with a twenty foot drop, landed in the shittiness at the bottom and then was carried away by the tidal currents of the drains underground for a mile when l was washed out of the sea sewage drain.
Maybe that was bad luck or unthinking on my side of things to not see the hole in B ground, but is it charmed then that got me through to the sea end?
The next accident, completely out of my control was when l was 12 and rolling down a cliff face in a car. The car rolled 100 foot down a sheer cliff face before landing in a heap on the bottom road, with me escaping with just a few cuts and scrapes. I was sat in the middle of the back seat with two people each to my left and right. The others came off pretty badly.
Bad luck, fate, charmed or blessed, or maybe just lucky? Maybe because l was younger, l was more supple?
I will not bore you with an account of each accident from the age of 12, but l do ask myself frequently what it is that keeps me alive? Between 12 – 23 l had many, many accidents or dates with both clumsiness and death and not once did it take me.
Of course during the very dark days of between 24 – 30, well that was a very different matter and l am not quite sure what the situation was there. When l was 17 l had a very strange experience at a fair and l was told l would die at 30 but be reborn, but before that l would have a serious accident in my early twenties and that my life would not be an easy one to live after that.
Bloody tarot card readers l thought at the time and so upset was l that l went back the same night to complain and yet no one knew the reader l was talking about and or describing!!? She had vanished into thin air! The reader there was the only one , and had said she had pooped out of her tent to get herself a drink and perhaps l had been there when someone was taking the pee and thought it funny to play a prank.
I cannot deny that did place a bit of an unnerve on me, as you will read in later posts l was quite heavily into things at that time in my life that perhaps l had should of left well alone.
However after a few months l let it slide.
Of course in my twenties something did happen, that changed my life forever – death came a knocking and knocked me for six one day in November 1987 and my life after that was not easy to live. In fact so badly was l affected by the events of that day, that between the ages of 25 – 30 l tried many times to take my own life … all resulting in failure.
Many times during that phase l asked myself the question, why am l still here? What was the point of surviving that? I was told in hospital that the chances of my surviving the crash were astronomically low and yet all l walked away with was a buggered knee. Well, physically that is all l walked away with. Mentally is a different thing altogether – l was officially broken.
When 30 arrived, having forgotten about the spooky tarot reading, l had yet another accident and was clipped by a car. Being clipped by cars during my life had almost become common place with me. When l was 15 l was hit by a car by an old lady who should not have been driving. At 13 l slipped on some ice and slid down my hilly road outside my house, right under a bus during one winter. Its tyres missed my head my millimetres as l slipped under and out the other side to then was hit by the car on the other side of the road. Never mind the time when l was 26 and knocked unconscious by an opening train door on the platform as it pulled into the station!
All of these things were designed to kill me! Yet, l lived.
But at 30, l was clipped by a car in Peterborough and knocked unconscious, woke up in hospital some 8 hours later with a stonking headache. Had l been reborn? Not to my knowledge.
From that point to my 50th year l had been electrocuted, shocked, trodden on, kicked, beaten up, stabbed, throttled, hit by a bus, shot at, nearly drowned and fallen down great heights and the list went on, and on. Of those antics, the doctors at the time said l was lucky to have survived a good 75% of the accidents? What was my secret?? How would l bloody know l remember remarking to them?
Is it fate, lucky, blessed, charmed or what?
Or is it just Life?