Laundry Day

It took me 33 minutes exactly to write this. I'm stoked.

I have to physically, emotionally, and spiritually prepare myself to drive in Sicily. This is especially true when it rains, as it did today. It is even more especially true when I'm driving a rental car. The roads in Collesano are so narrow that a thousand dollar door scrape is only a slight miscalculation away, and there is no sympathy-yield from the locals who have navigated this terrain for generations.

It rained this morning and the main road in town was closed for removal of carnevale tents. This double-whammy sent me into an immediate tailspin through which I had to channel years of studied meditation breathing techniques. I was delighted to experience not only the steady endurance of the stress of a forced detour into the side streets, but also a softening of fear as a result of counting the seconds of my exhales. I, and the drivers around me, came out unscathed.

On the main highway to Cefalu, and all others in Sicily, there is a common practice of following the car in front of you with only centimeters between your bumper and theirs. I have been practicing my frustration with this as, dangerous though it may be, I am powerless to stop it. There is no telepathic way to explain to this man that he is endangering himself, me, and other drivers on the road by being in a hurry. Brake checking is worse.

The most successful technique I have devised is to tell myself, sometimes out loud, that it is customary in Sicily to pass a slower vehicle. The roads are often extremely windy and only one lane in either direction and most drivers are not offended by the action of passing when it is safe to do so. In order to pass quickly, and efficiently, the trailing driver must be as close to the leading driver as possible in order to take advantage immediately upon revelation of a safe passing zone. 

This thought helps immensely and I am able to calm the sparking road rage. 

I also learned the helpful mantra from my friend Katie: "Its none of my business". It truly is none of my business how rushed the person behind me is. It is none my business if that person wants to pass me. So let them.

Through all of these mental gymnastics I take to keep myself in a place of peace, I remember that at least I am not in America where any person from the age of 21 can legally purchase a gun and choose to fire it at me as I respectfully drive in the slow lane so others can pass.



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