On Friday morning, approaching the corner of Bourke and William, I was standing up to get off at my stop when the driver braked abruptly. The tram was unusually empty, so there were no people packed beside me to fall into. Instead, I hurtled down the aisle of the tram, measured my length on the wet floor and cracked my head on said floor for good measure.
There was a sickening crunch, but it sounded worse than it was. People all around me fussed and fluttered, asking if I was okay, telling me to sit down, wanting to know if I needed medical help. They were lovely.
‘I think I’m fine,’ I said vaguely, rubbing the back of my head. Walking the few blocks to my office I thought I was going to burst into tears, but I didn’t even feel sore. The next day was a different matter, and in a routine visit for acupuncture, discovered I had whiplash.
Accidents happen. For me, they seem to happen more when I’m under pressure.
I am into the final week before a big five-day conference that I’m the project manager for. In the lead up to this same event last year, I had three ‘accidents’. I spilt boiling soup on my hand. A car reversed into me in Sydney Road and sent me flying. And the day the conference began, I was cutting up fruit for a snack and sliced through the tendon in my left thumb, ending up in hospital for a night, with plastic surgery the next morning.
Some people maintain there’s no such thing as an accident. I beg to differ. There is evil in the world and there are also accidents that happen to the best and to the most careful people.
In my case though, and I suspect this is true for many, accidents happen more when I am not taking care, when I am distracted, when I am not mindful.
Recently a group of us at work talked about what we found helpful when stress levels were high. Where did we find peace at those times? One person cleaned the house, another focused on his breathing.
When the pressure is on, I try to maintain my usual routines and disciplines. I get up early to pray, walk to work, nap at weekends, read a novel at night. The minute I think that I am too busy to do these things, accidents happen.
It is so hard, sometimes, to do this. Inside a little voice is saying, ‘You haven’t got time for this, hurry, hurry, hurry, for god’s sake, Clare, panic!’ But the more I hurry, the less I get done. The length of my to do list immobilizes me and I go round in circles.
I’m learning to do the first little thing on the list and then the next. Then the one after that. Take time to breathe, be mindful, do all the daily things that help me pay attention.
Writing this is a reminder to myself to do this, because I’m a slow learner, living in a world of mindless hurry.
This year, I’m hoping to get better at doing this. So that maybe I won’t end up in hospital. So that this year, maybe, I’ll only have one pre-conference ‘accident’, and not three.