Car Crash. Reflect. Write. Post.

Alrighty. I think now is the perfect time to write a lil reflective post on life, death, mortality and whatever the heck we spend our time doing these earthly days.

In the midst of a whole week spent studying at home, even today consisting of an equal amount of time alternating between study and netflix to balance the workload, there's never a better time than the present to do what you feel like. And right now, I feel like writing this lil post.

Call me dramatic or something, but I survived a car crash the other week, and now that I've had time to, you know, scramble my brain out of the spiralling existential crisis that this near-death experience plummeted me into, I have scientifically concluded and firmly believe that it was fate who gave me a little visit.

Yes, she's real. And exactly to the minute 2 weeks ago she dropped by to give me a subtle slap in the face to wake the heck up. To. My. Life.

To my wonderful, grateful, amazing, beautiful, lucky, happy, fulfilled life.

Let me take you through the stages I went through (and arguably am still going through) and the lessons I am continuously processing.

Lesson 1: Breathing

So, I don't know if I want to get into the whole cars skidding, smashing into concrete stuff again so let's stick to some epiphanies and fundamental truths that happened during and after the said incident.

Breathing.

Did you know... that you are breathing right now?

AHAH VERY FUNNY THANK YOU FOR STATING THE OBVIOUS.

Stick with me.

I bet you just became aware of it, right? Now you're thinking about it, and how it's just magically happening on its own, without you needing to spell it out to your lungs like 'now expand, now contract', and now you're breathing kinda weirdly because it's conscious.

Yes, you might be thinking, "wow this is *riveting* content"

But as I stumbled my way out of our smashed car, blinking through the dust and smoke and climbing out from under the airbags, finally stepping onto the highway, I couldn't believe that I was still breathing. That my mum was still breathing next to me, that our friend was still breathing as she kneeled down on the road.

Having lost a sandal in the car, I was standing with one exposed foot on the road. We were alive. We were all in one piece. And we were breathing.

I have never been more aware of my existence on this Earth, in this solar system, in this galaxy ever.

This sounds inordinately obnoxious but give me a break, I was alive.

Lesson 2: Gratitude

In those few minutes we experienced after climbing out of our smoking car, it really was pure gratitude that someone, something out there in the universe saved us from leaving this Earth very quickly.

I remember thinking in those few seconds so many things at once. Strangely enough, I was so composed and was just going through the motions: "is everyone ok, where is my sandal, is everyone safe and unhurt, where is my goddamn sandal."

The shock I was feeling was so overwhelming, that it cancelled itself out if that makes sense?

Those few moments that we were standing there, assessing the damage to ourselves and the car, I was grateful grateful grateful. Grateful that my mum was still alive and unharmed, no one was hurt, and that the sun was still shining.

You think of all the great things you've experienced in your measly 19 years, all the things you are grateful for: the experiences you have been lucky enough to call your memories, and all the people you've met and known.

You think of all the times you spent lazing around, spent pitying yourself because you didn't get that mark or that job or that boyfriend, and now you have the ultimate comparison: life as it is, or death? Apparently, it takes a car crash to remember that everything in life is relative.

In that moment, you are acutely aware that yourself as a human being, as the hero of your own story that you could have been erased from the page. And that's where the fear sets in.

Lesson 3: Fear

Well, this should technically be first on the list, since when the thing actually happened I was taking a nice nap, leaning my head against the window.

So yeah, with no need to underplay my visceral terror at the moment that I woke up and saw a huge car veering at my window at 100 km/h, as it smashed into us twice in a row.

Once we were out of the car, we crossed the road in a daze, and me being the materialistic girl I am that rummaged carefully through the car to collect my sandal, the hats and British chocolates we had and ended up hauling all this stuff around in a 'clinical waste' baggie the paramedics gave us. Classy. It's the price I had to pay.

The point is that as I was standing at the side of the road, holding my clinical waste baggie and looked at the smashed car, the fear hit me a second time.

It emerged through my paralysing shock.

Why? It was terrifying to look at the family car we've had for 6 years, the front completely smashed in, the engine smoking, the left side scraped and the front left wheel folded under the car. And on top of that, remember that - oh right, we were sitting in there five minutes ago and we could have literally been red pancakes inside.

(awfully sorry, what a horrible analogy...)

Fear. It's what holds us back, but at the same time, it keeps us alive.

I don't know how that contradiction works for us humans, but it has for a long time.

I think the people that find their inner balance with fear, between holding back and living, are the ones that are the successful bunch. Not the sometimes fake successful we're inundated with on the internet, but truly successful, compared to themselves and to what they aspire to be, past their own fears and doubts.

But that's just my inexperienced opinion about success.

So yeah, two weeks ago, you could say I was pretty freaked out.

Lesson 4: Incredulity

It's hard not to tear up at the simple thought of how lucky I am to be alive right now. Even taking the slightest breath of air. Alive.

The whole car crash, ambulance ride, hospital examination visit felt like it was a movie scene I was watching, but also just instinctively reacting to, and responding to questions when I was asked about pain, etc. "Does this hurt when I press it? How are you feeling?" Me: "fine, I'm fine".

It didn't feel real like it was happening to me. ME.

It's all thanks to our BMW that sacrificed itself for us, that I stepped away from this accident with nothing but a few scrapes, red seat belt burns on my neck and a sore neck for a few days (guys, I didn't actually think whiplash was painful, but let me tell you - it HURTS).

Sure, I am highly on edge these past few weeks thanks to this event, especially when we're on a highway/changing lanes/going at 100km an hour, therefore, I refuse to drive the highway by myself for the next few weeks...

However, let's think about the very beginning of incredulity.

LET ALONE all this surviving stuff, it's incredible that humans are alive at all. And then, all living things die, one way or another, we aren't on this earth anymore, and you can't really choose when or how it will happen, that's just life doing its thing.

I kinda get uncomfortable thinking about it. Mortality, relationships we have in our little lives on such a big planet, then about our galaxy and how many galaxies there are in the universe and what if there are parallel universes and there must definitely be aliens out there and what if today, a giant meteor hits Earth and we all die?

But you have to embrace that, to fully appreciate the fact that life is a gift. Do what you wish with it, but most importantly, enjoy every precious second, because you just don't know when and what will happen, and you never will.

Bit of a tangent here and there, but it's all so incredible. All those things are incredible in themselves, but what is also amazing, is the fact that as humans we can interpret this, see things, hear things, process things and function as a solitary unit.

That also amazes me.

Lesson 5: Love

On the scene of a car crash, everyone is connected: one way or another.

Each person relies on the other. The victims to the paramedics to the police to the tow trucks. It's a connection through a speechless event.

I felt connected.

And I also felt loved.

I'm not talking about romantic or platonic love. It's more like love in the 'concern of the wellbeing of other humans immediately around you and make sure everyone is ok and alive' way.

That kind of wholesome love.

It was freely given by the witness, a lovely lady who helped us immensely with negotiations, the paramedics, the police, the doctors and nurses at the hospital.

At one point, it was also too overwhelming and overpowering. It was really hard to hold back the tears while I was lying on a hospital bed for three hours for the observation process. But I didn't want to cry then, so I just looked around at nurses and people passing by with crazy wide eyes. I probably looked absolutely insane.

When you're in such a situation, it all comes into perspective.

Those times your grandma came upstairs for a quick chat, but you really wanted to keep watching your Netflix, or when your parents make you come with them to grocery shop and it's one of the last things you want to do - remember this:

Time with all of your loved ones is finite.

It's a sad, sobering thought with no cherry on top - just plain truth.

There's nothing you can do about it, except be present in every moment and appreciate all that you have right here, right now. Make the most of each year, month, day, hour and minute spending time with loved ones and shaping a life for yourself that you won't regret living.

This is exactly what I plan to do.

I've been given a second chance.

There's so much left for me to do.

I'm not done with my time on Earth just yet.

So, after this whole shebang of a post, and with these final thoughts, I've finally decided to put this website, blog, thought outlet or whatever Nina's Milieu is, out into the universe, to shout my thoughts out into the dark void of the internet, so it's published and maybe someone has a chance to read my random thoughts and travels. Life is too short and too unpredictable to not do it! Therefore, I encourage you to do the same with all of your wonderful endeavours.