Am I becoming a cliché?

A few weeks ago I hit a car. I’ve been in a few fender benders over the years. They weren’t a big deal. A quick exchange of insurance information and off we go. However, being the at-fault driver felt different, and I found myself quite rattled by it. There wasn’t even anyone in the other car - it was parked! I backed into it. I felt like the cliché grey-haired woman in her sixties unable to maneuver a car.

The entire month leading up to the accident was stressful. First, I had Covid. Then, I had my annual mammogram and breast ultrasound. After the first images were taken, I was informed they were busy and I wouldn’t hear back for a few days. I was in the waiting room waiting for the ultrasound when the technician came and told me that the doctor had already had a look and requested I have 3D imaging done. She took me in immediately. After every angle had been captured (ouch!) and two ultrasounds were completed, I was told they were confident things were okay. Whew!

Two days later I had an appointment with my dermatologist to follow up on how a spot on my scalp was healing after a biopsy. I lean towards anxiety especially when it has anything to do with my health. I work with it but it takes me time for my body to regulate when my anxiety is triggered.

And then backing out of my mother’s driveway I hit her neighbour’s car. I’ll spare you all the details that led up to it but at the end of the day, it was my fault. There was some damage, but no one was physically hurt. There will be an insurance claim. It’s not a big deal. I expected to dust myself off and get on with things.

But I couldn’t.

For days after, I was shaken up. I had trouble sleeping. I beat myself up for not being more aware when I was backing up. My reaction was so out of proportion to what had happened that I started to get anxious about my anxiety. I know all the things to do. I’ve got the tools. I would make some progress and then boom out of nowhere I would start to struggle again. The cycle would repeat. I tried all the things that usually work but nothing was helping.

After about ten days —YES, TEN DAYS!!! — I went to the library. There on the “Just Returned” shelf was a copy of Byron Katie’s book Loving What Is. I had read it several years ago and there was a synchronicity in seeing it at this particular time. I checked it out and started reading it.

Katie reminded me that “A thought is harmless unless we believe it.” And what I was holding on to was a thought that I shouldn’t be anxious. I should be able to handle things that come my way including COVID-19, mammograms, skin cancer and car accidents.

Accepting the anxiety instead of trying to fight it brought the first relief I had felt in a few weeks. I started talking to the anxiety. I accepted it. After the month I had, it makes perfect sense I would be shaken. There was a cumulative effect. The more I stopped resisting how I was feeling the less anxious I felt. It was okay to feel the way I was feeling. I started talking to a few friends about how anxious I felt and I was supported by their loving responses.

I don’t let go of my concepts—I meet them with understanding. They let go of me. - Byron Katie.

Naturally, I began to see a parallel to conscious aging. So much of the work we do as we age is accepting what is. We face our mortality, we do life review and life repair. We heal the places that still need healing. We stop fighting the reality of our lives, get on with dealing with what is, and adapt to new ways of being in the world. Sometimes we have big feelings about it all. And often we are comforted by caring friends.

One thing I am certain about there is a reason these are called the wisdom years. The learning never ends in our lives - nor does the healing. Our capacity for reflection deepens and grows and we have an opportunity to hold all of our experiences with gratitude.

I’m not happy I backed into a car but I am no longer upset about it. It may be a little while until I back out of a parking spot with confidence but I'm getting there. I’m moving on with compassion for everyone involved in the situation including myself. If there is any aging cliché I am happy to embrace, it is the wise woman.