The Big EW

Three o'clock in the morning sitting at our kitchen table with my laptop in front of us I was ready to punch Anthony. Oddly enough, he was helping me. I was failing my exisistentialism class not surprisingly as I spent most classes with my head down on the desk despite my best efforts to stay awake and Anthony had agreed to edit my final paper of which most of my grade relied upon. What the prompt was, I don't remember and I do remember summarizing Camus's views on the "point of living." Honestly, it may not have been Camus I was writing about but the only texts I remember reading are The Myth of Sisyphus and Beckett's Waiting For Godot. So to get on with the story: the essay was about someone's view that we were to live to spite living because there isn't a meaning to life.
The meaning of life truly is an existential wonder. As one that's struggled with suicidal thoughts since puberty it can sometimes be a question I grapple with daily if not hourly especially as a "spiritual" person. My recent car crash has put things more clearly. I now disagree with whomever we were studying and I believe in the "greater purpose" or power whatever it is. It can be the only explanation. I went off the icy road, over a ditch, rolled in my car between trees to land unharmed - except emotionally - and back to work and driving my car the next day. Not a scratch, not a bruise, no whiplash, nada.
A few days after the accident I went back to pick up any debris left by the car as I had promised the owners, who gave me a cup of tea and a warm place to wait on the 19 degree night, I would. There was nothing left. One of them must have already come to clean up. In daylight I was able to see that I slid off in safest place. With trees on either side and a rock wall beyond, I would have been hospitalized had I made impact with anything.
So maybe I'm lucky. But luck seems to be too easy of an explanation. So now I'm left to wonder, "Why am I here? What's my greater purpose?"