Lucid Thinking

I was involved in a severe car accident some years ago.

Soon afterwards, a friend said to me that my state of mind, and my way of thinking to handle issues since then had become lucid.

This word ('lucid') wasn't new to me but the comment stuck in my mind and over the years I have wondered what was meant by it and why such an incident would have that effect.

A couple of months ago I had cause to be away from home for some considerable time - 30 days or so. I was part of a crew of 14 sailing a yacht across the Atlantic, starting from Liverpool and landing in Salvador, Brazil. During this time, I was out of contact from home and work and was able to allow the clouds that had gathered in my mind over the years, to drift away.

Indeed, I wasn't aware that the was any drifting taking place until I arrived home and found I was able to deal with he most annoying issues with the calmest approach.

Why was this?

Comparing the two scenarios.

• Losing control of the car on a slight curve in the road at 90 mph, the next eight seconds were to ingrain themselves on my mind so deeply, I will remember them always. I recall very clearly - even as I press the keys to write these words - I recall every detail of the shiny, wet road; the kerb which failed to resist the drifting tyres; the gnarled tree in the hedge and the silence. Even though I had music playing at an ear-bursting level, there was silence. Silence until a noise bust through my body and threw me into a cacophony of sound, a screaming commotion which span me round and round and round as the car smashed off the tree and span into the field. As I sat in the car trying to make sense out of what had happened, I began to focus on survival. I feared my intestines had come out of my stomach or I had shattered bones protruding from my legs. Or both. I had neither. I staggered from the car and as I fell down some twenty-five yards away, my next focus was to hold as tightly as I could onto my abdomen, inside which I felt that my guts had burst open into the cavity. When the police turned up they, and the ambulance men tried to unfold me. I refused to yield because I thought if I did I would bleed internally and die. Four hours later I was released from hospital. I could drive the next day; in fact I did. It took me a month to get my head sorted out to be able to return to work.
• Sailing the Atlantic, we were exposed to many conditions and a few times these were far more than I had expected. I was never frightened but always aware that safety was an issue for all of us and not only did we look after ourselves but we also cared for the safety, well being and morale of those around us. I received a few minor injuries but not much more than battered knees whilst working on the bow; fingers trapped in sail hanks and the odd belt on the head or in the face from flapping lines. On one occasion the spinnaker bust in half in high winds and in the rough sea we were faced with getting the boat back sailing with 50 foot of ripped sail flapping wildly above the 78 foot mast. Daunting, but we done it. Seeing how different people dealt with it was interesting. Illuminating. Some froze. Some talked. But some just took action. I was one of the latter. Within a minute of arriving on deck after the "...all hands on deck...." call, I found myself on the bow with five others clawing at the sail and inch by inch we pulled against the screaming wind.

In contrast, on the flight home from Brazil, I took the Heathrow-Manchester shuttle and grabbed the newspaper out of the rack in front of me. After a minute or so, the pin-stripe-clad-twenty-something next to me said sharply, "...you are welcome to read my newspaper if you wish, but it is customary to ask.....". I apologised and put it back with an internal broad smile.

Arriving home I was calm, easy going and non-judgemental. I was pleasant company and liked what I had become or, should I say, preferred the new layers of me which had been exposed by new experience.

Had the sea-faring experience changed my life? Had wrapping my car round a tree changed my way of thinking?

Or does a walk on the wild side - whether intentional or accidental - make one think more clearly; does exposure to bigger and real issues make us realise what is outside our normal spheres?

One thing, for me, is true - we live our lives within a protective cocoon controlled by social norms and a trespass outside them exposes us to a new perspective - a real view on life.

With clarity.

With objectivity.

And with lucidity.