Passenger

I like my Christian brother's especially on Sunday mornings because they get charitable and I get offered to join them for breakfast. I think this is just an effort by the brothers to preach and Christianised me better which is fine by me because breakfast with these lot is almost always errr...entertaining.

So last Sunday while enjoying my super-special-telur-atas -Penang-fried-kueh-tiaw one brother asked me, out of the blue, if I ever felt like I was a passenger in my own life. And I'm like...whiskey tango foxtrot but because it was a Sunday, I just told him a flat no. I know too well where this line of questioning would eventually lead and not intending to give the brother the benefit of continuing this Sunday spiritual inspired talks, I quickly asked him if he thought that guy, Job of the Old Testament, was for real. Yeahhhh, that got the brother going.

But back at my place, I couldn't stop thinking about what he asked. Am I a passenger in my own life?

Although the metaphor is wearing thin, the only thing I feel I'm in control of are speed and direction. And I have a terrible sense of direction. I try to avoid the groove and pot holes, but that means I very often wind up in unexpected places. Sometimes it’s fucking hell. And sometimes it’s not. But I like it this way.

But do I want to be the passenger in my own life? Seems the expected answer would be no and that I want to be the driver but I think I'd rather be the car. Although I’m not so crazy about the car metaphor thing, given the choice (and I have been), I want to be my life. Not a user of my life, not the driver, not the passenger, but actually be my life.

Maybe it’s my age…not yet the wise old man (still tring to figure how I can get my hands on that illusive MYR17,000,000 which I think is the exact amount of moolah that would put an end to my financial woes indefinitely)…but experienced enough to have selected some seasoned perspectives. If my life is a vehicle to be driven, I want to be the car. I want to be my life, not separate from it. I’m leaning away from thinking of my life as something to be moved from one place to another. Life just is, wherever we are and whatever we’re doing. Fuck man, experiences come to us and we just try to fucking live them.

So, no. I don’t think I want to be a passenger in my own life and I don’t want to be the driver either.

But I sure as hell hope this car doesn't break down unexpectedly along the way.