I hold on white-knuckled. For no reason other than the excess of anxiety that needs expression somewhere through and out of my body. I brake, although the pedal is across the car from me. I try to slow my breathing.
For some reason, closing my eyes makes it worse - I can't do my usual calming routine. I need to keep my eyes on the road so I can anticipate the next disaster.
I used to love mountain drives. The curves. The hills. The speed. The centrifugal forces acting on my body. But not this year. This year I needed to control the things that could be controlled. And yes, I am cognizant of the quote from that Tom Cruise-Nicole Kidman travesty ‘Days of Thunder,’ “control is an illusion, you infantile egomaniac.”
But sometimes an illusion is all that’s needed.