I can't believe I'm even blogging this, but then again... of course I am. This is Alex's story, and it relates to our recent experience in making an offer on a house that seemed to fit us perfectly, and losing it, all in the space of 24 hours. The only real problem at this house was that access to the highway at the end of the lane was, well...risky. Even leaving our showing, we had to peel out, and just barely missed a car coming up the hill on one side. There is just no visibility in either direction, because of the position of the road at the top of a steep hill. So, here is my husband's mystical experience, as it was told to me. You've heard stories of the Native American sweat lodges and peyote-induced vision quests...this is in that vein.
Alex was at work, just back from lunch, I think. He was thinking about the house, and how he regretted that we didn't get it. Then he started thinking about that intersection and how dangerous it was. At this point, nature called, and these philosophical ruminations were relocated to the um...facilities. As he sat and, um, pondered, he said he had a sense of leaving his body. (I've had chance to be in the vicinity of these ponderings, and I've wanted to leave my body, too--at least the part that was attached to my olfactory system.)
And as he floated, non-corporeally, he was able to see the whole property--the house, all its rooms, the outbuildings, then the acreage. He continued, in this disembodied all-seeing way, up the road to the intersection with the highway, where he was horrifyingly confronted with the sight of my vehicle, totalled. It had been t-boned by a car speeding up the hill out of sight. He could see and hear Bella crying in terror in the back, but couldn't tell if I was alive or dead.
It was his moment of clarity, and peace about not getting the house. And now, my friends, for the best, the very best part of the story, and the only direct quote that really stuck with me:
"And then, POOF! I was back on the toilet."