So on Friday, the weirdest thing that's ever happened to me, happened to me.
I was driving the rolla South on I-55, going to Jackson to visit my sister, brother-in-law, and nephew, Ben. I was driving along in the right hand lane, listening to my jamz, when all of a sudden, I see a car going Northbound on I-55 tumbling across the median towards me. I hit the brakes, the car lands upside down in the left lane not 30 feet from me.
Now, here's where it gets strange:
For some reason, I put my car in park, took my keys out of my ignition, put them in my pocket, and somehow transported myself to the overturned vehicle (I'm not exactly sure if I ran or walked briskly). I remember bending down, then somehow ending up on the ground next to this upside-down car, and I unbuckled the young man driving the car, and pulled him out onto the grass in the median. Lots of people had stopped by this point and were rushing towards the car, and some of them knew a lot more about what they were doing than I did, so I left. I just got in my car and drove away.
I'm not exactly sure what instincts took over... never in my life have I seen a wreck happen in front of my eyes, and NEVER in my life did I think I would have to be the one to do something about it. But it's almost like it never even happened. I seriously felt separated from my body, watching the whole thing unfold, like in a movie. I remember some of the things that went through my head: "I probably shouldn't move this guy, but I think I have to get him out of this car": "Why isn't there any glass?"; "Are you hurt?" I'm not sure if I just thought this, or if I actually said it out loud.
At any rate, the guy was lucid and only hurt on his elbows. It was weird, it was the only part of him that was bleeding, and he was smushed in his car. He had been driving with the windows down, so there wasn't any glass, except for the windshield, and I can't remember where that was. But there wasn't any glass anywhere. I stuck around long enough for a nice woman with scissors to cut open his clothes to see if he had any bones sticking out, and I thought, "Why didn't I think of that?"
So, my not being able to stop thinking about this has led me to think about lots of other things. One of them being what our instincts are as humans. Where do they come from? How do we get them? When do they start? Are these instincts something we all have, or just a few people? Are they part of our basic makeup, but then are altered by age, chemical imbalance, life experiences? I'm not quite sure about it all, but I do know this: whatever it was that moved me to help, was not me at all, and I have never been more aware before or since that I do not just belong to myself.
This guy was on the door at Claire's house: