Getting used to the slide of life
Last month I spent 6 nights in Mpondoland, a part of South Africa formerly known as the Transkei, well known for its difficult-to-access rugged coastline and wild beauty. This makes for the most spectacular scenery for hiking and, being off the beaten track, also means a true disconnect from the day-to-day and a full immersion in nature.
The night before we were due to leave, torrential rain clogged the already-rough roads, blocking us in for another day - it simply wasn’t possible to even try make our way out. And to be honest, I don’t think we would have even made it beyond the driveway. The following day, a few hours of sun into the morning and the hopes that this would have dried up the roads somewhat, we set off for the 7-hour drive back home.
What I hadn’t anticipated was needing to make my way through a flat-out mud bath. Or having to attempt some pretty hectic off-roading in a car that isn’t 4x4. Within the first 20 minutes of slowly wading through the thick mud, my car swiftly slid (sideways) straight off the road and into the wet grasslands. Staying surprisingly calm, I was able to continue along the side of the road until finding a suitable place to attempt re-entry. This white-knuckling continued for a full 90 minutes of many hair-raising moments including watching the 4x4 ahead of me slide a full 180 degrees and end up facing me…and knowing I still had that part of the road ahead to get through.
With my tyres layered up with mud, struggling to find traction against the never-ending wetness, I had no choice but to keep going… slowly, slowly keeping at it, knowing that stopping even for a moment, would guarantee getting stuck.
My friend, Sharon, sat alongside me, gripping the seats with her hands, remaining dead quiet aside from some helpful encouragement and the occasional squeal as the car slid from side to side, my hands systematically pulling the steering wheel through loop after loop after loop in an attempt to slide-correct and stay somewhat on course. After what must have been an hour of this, I turned to her and said:
“Once you get used to sliding around, it’s actually not that bad.”
(Yes, even in that moment, we were able to laugh.)
And that’s the truth of life, isn’t it?
Once you get used to sliding around, being pulled this way and that, with no option but to keep going, you kind of get used to it. And then, eventually, it stops feeling so terrifying and you just kind of go with it. Not bracing for it, but rather expecting it. And with that, almost flowing with it. Certainly not absent of fear, but doing it. And making your way through afterall.
Yup. We’ve all had plenty of slides lately, haven’t we?
Within the first few days of my return:
My dog bit me on the head, requiring a tetanus shot (slide)
The fanbelt on my car had to be replaced (slide)
My internet banking was used fraudulently and had to be blocked (slide)
My kitchen tap started pouring (not dripping) and wouldn’t turn off (slide)
The hopes I'd held of getting back together with my ex were sharply interrupted when I met his girlfriend (slide, slide, sliiiiiiiiide)
That’s the thing about life isn’t it?
It’s FULL of slides. Sometimes they’re gentle. And sometimes they’re not. And sometimes they happen in such quick succession that it feels like we’ll never ever be able to get back on the road. But we do. Because we have to. And because we don’t have a choice other than to keep the wheels slowly turning and to keep moving forward.
Later that evening, when we were both back home and understandably exhausted, Sharon messaged me to let me know that her FitBit thought she’d gone for a 90-minute mountain bike ride. As she relayed this and we spoke about the day’s events, she added with a chuckle: “I have to admit there was one stage, Jess, I was a bit worried you were starting to enjoy it too much”.