Courting Danger

Sometimes I like to do something stupid, just to see what will happen.

I don't have occasion to go on solo road trips very often, but a few weeks ago it so happened that I drove home from Banff by myself. I had been at the Paddy Crean Stage Combat workshop (reflections found here) for a week, where I had basically been coddled and treated like a child (didn't have to go anywhere, all the food was provided - didn't even have to make my own bed!), so even just something simple as driving home (I live 3.5 hours away, which in Western Canada is nothing) was enough responsibility to really have to adjust to.

The Arts Centre is up a hill and around a corner in the town of Banff. It seemed like it was easy enough to get there, so I figured it would be easy enough to get out. It wasn't. I stopped for gas, got all turned around, had to ask for directions, etc. Maps? What? I'll intuit my way out.

I intuited my way on to the freeway headed for Calgary. I did that for a bit when it really started to feel like I was going the wrong way. So, I looked for a turnaround spot and went the other direction. No big D. Lots of time.

"Castle Mountain (or something). That sounds familiar. I'll turn off there. When I start seeing signs for Radium, I'll know I'm on the right track." After about 15 minutes of that, nothing looked familiar. So, I pulled over, pulled out my iPhone and called my husband to confess that I was lost in the mountains and didn't know what to do. He told me to use Siri. I didn't know how to use Siri. I tried. I got confused. I called back, "I don't know how to use Siri, now what?" At which point, he was like, "Look, if you don't figure this out, you're going to run out of gas and freeze to death. Figure out your damn phone." The asshole-ish quality I've conveyed here isn't accurate. He was feeling very helpless at trying to navigate me out of where I didn't know I was.

So, I did. I figured it out and I was on my way. Then, Siri said something about turning off. But there was no real turn off. Then, she recalculated the route to say that it would be a lot longer before I was to turn next. At which, I panicked a little. "What if it turns out I have to circumnavigate the globe to get where I need to go unless I just turn around and try to turn where she said I was supposed to in the first place?" So, I turned around. I didn't see what she was talking about, so I saw a turnoff point (for hiking or something) and decided to pull off there.

But Siri was talking and she distracted me, so I turned too wide and got stuck in the snow. Stuck stuck. I saw some parked vehicles close by, and went up to them, but no one was there. Out all day for a hike, I assumed. I grew up on a farm and have experience in getting stuck in the snow in the middle of nowhere, so I went old school. I stood out there and started waving people down.

Not for long. The first people to pass by stopped. An older couple, very nice. Together, we did what we could do (pushing, digging snow out), but ultimately we realized we needed more help. We flagged down another vehicle. This time a young couple. We tied some cables between the vehicles and tried to pull. Not quite there. So, a middle aged guy and his young adult son stopped to help us, too. And then I got unstuck and there was joy in all the land.

Oh, and the older couple had just come from Radium. I was going the right way. I don't know what Siri was talking about. Sometimes Siri just fucking makes things worse.

But the aberrant part of all this? I kind of liked it. I had a bit of a premonition before I made that turn that I was going to get stuck, but I ignored it because I wanted to see what would happen. I enjoyed seeing the problem play itself out to the solution. If no one had stopped, I would have been hooped, but I liked seeing if anyone would.

In this case, I enjoyed being taken care of. I love my life and wouldn't trade it for anything, but I spend my days making sure that people get dressed and brush their teeth and get to rehearsal and have everything they need for their film projects. In a deep part of my soul that I don't like to admit is there, I was thrilled to be revolved around (I'm always thrilled to be revolved around. So, this was a great opportunity to indulge). And in a life that plays itself out with a fair amount of predictability, it was cool to wonder what would happen next.

It happened again, just yesterday. I had a moment of, "The smart thing to do would be to 'x' but I don't want to bother, so I'll do 'y'" and the undercarriage of the car ended up stuck in the ground. Everything is okay, the car is fixed and it didn't cost anything, but again, I went with the thing I knew would get me in trouble and potentially eff up my life for a bit.

As I relayed this part of my nature to my teaching partner ("I court danger, it's something I do," I said.), he all but snickered at my idea of recklessness. But such a thing is relative, just like suffering or victory. And it's always a big deal to me at the time - "Why did I just do that?" But we need to get stuck and to solve our way out, don't we, we writers (or any of us theatre practitioners)? Otherwise, what would we have to say to anyone?

But, I'll keep doing it. I know it. Not on purpose, but because of my insatiable curiosity. And though I wish I could be smart, capable and responsible, there's a part of me that hopes I'll never learn.