Teaching moment

I was driving along in my eight year old Subaru Forester yesterday when I experienced what would you call a “teaching moment”. I was listening to a conversation with Gary Zukav, the author of “The Seat of the Soul”, on my blue tooth headset. His quiet voice said “every experience is meant to teach us something that helps elevate our consciousness”. Just as he finished the sentence, I swung my car into the office parking garage and slowly ascended the ramp. Then out of nowhere, this little Mazda flashed in front of me and the next thing I know there was a screeching of brakes and the unpleasant and disturbing sound of metal upon metal. I had been in a Zen state till then and I transformed into this angry, confused individual trying to hold it all together. The driver of the car I had hit was a young girl. She had jumped the stop sign and darted in front of me. I had cars behind me entering the garage so could not stop on time. Since it was clearly her fault, she began running up and down not knowing if she was coming or going. We exchanged insurance papers and took pictures, all the while enduring insults from irate drivers, whose cars we were blocking and forcing into a detour. I could clearly see that this dithering was born out of our sheer distrust of each other. We did not want the other to screw us over. Anyway, I gathered my beans and parked my car. I had to laugh. I felt ridiculous that something so inconsequential brought out such vile emotions from within me. I rushed to my meeting a little disturbed that my perfectly ordered morning was in disarray, my poor car had her face deformed with an ugly gash and hole, but kept calm, determined to stay with the discomfort. I stayed focussed on the agenda and when I emerged on the other side the morning’s events were dreamlike. Of course, the husband, who I had called earlier, and who I was convinced thought it was all my fault, I was distracted or that I was a complete idiot, broke me out of my reverie to ask if I had called the Insurance Company. Ah yes, there is such a thing, I remembered. So I got on the phone and called to speak to a very cheery “Heather” who patiently outlined how an adjuster would be in touch and where I could get my repairs done and pick up my rental car. It was all so streamlined, easy and painless. I told her I would write to her Manager expressing my appreciation for the quality of service she provided me. She was thrilled! After work, I went to the Collision Centre to report the incident. I found out that you only call the police to the scene at the time of the accident if someone has been hurt, there is damage to personal property or if someone is driving impaired. Sure I was drunk on Zukav and the Zen state I was in, but not illegally impaired, thank god! So I did not have the Police on the scene and went instead to report the matter at the Toronto Police’s Collision Centre. I did not know what to expect. However, I received Cadillac treatment. The process was hassle free. I had a Metro Officer show me where I had to enter the data and I was done in a jiffy. She complimented me on my speed, printed off the report with an estimate of the damage. A young man had taken pictures while I was inside and it all came up on the screen with my report. Very impressive! I complimented her on her efficiency and she beamed. I just stopped short of giving her a hug! As I came out, the young woman whose car I had struck entered the Collision Centre and I greeted her like a long lost friend and apologised for being rude earlier. She reassured me that I had not been and even managed a smile. All was well with the world. Ah well, don’t know if my consciousness was elevated but my mood certainly was – by the swimmingly perfect way everything unfolded and conspired to help me out! At least I would like to think so!