I nearly died today

I nearly died today. 

As someone who has run out of fingers and toes counting up friends and acquaintances who have perished in general aviation crashes, I am mindful each time I fly a small airplane that what I am doing is not safe. I know people who refuse to fly in small airplanes for that reason. While I can't really blame them, I don't wish to join them. 

It seems like a stretch to call myself an adrenaline junkie. It is not that I thrive on extreme risk or high-voltage excitement. However, there is something about risk that makes one feel more aware, more alive. And something in defeating that risk that is highly satisfying. So I fly.

Today (Friday) I decided to walk to work in Ho Chi Minh City. Not a big deal, a few klicks from the hotel, about 40 minutes walking. With street crossings. There was a gal who went to dinner with us recently who spends a lot of time in Vietnam. She refuses to walk, bicycle, or ride a scooter in HCMC. I get it, but I don't want to live it.

There comes a moment when you step out in faith. Walking across a street means that you will be a potential target for zooming scooters. You know that they have no intention of hitting you, and will strive to miss you. Even so, it is best not to look. They whisper past in a flash, slow motion bullets from an assassin's gun, barely missing, gone in a breeze. Crossing a major street, maybe 40 will pass you, some within inches. 

If I looked I might want to stop or try to dodge them, so I don't. I just walk, confidently and predictably. And then, I am across. Walking down a sidewalk that is always part street. Acutely aware. And I realize I am enjoying this. 

One of my realities is that I must someday die. It could be today. It could be now. In fact, it could have been now many times in the past. God spared me for reasons unknown. My mission on earth is not yet accomplished, it seems. 

I am Ok with that. I once had a guy call me to ask about pilot training for a certain billionaire in Seattle. One of the things he said was "my client has a lot to lose". I thought about that. What does anyone have to lose by dying? I know what I have to lose. My wife. My children, my daughters in law, my grandchildren, my family, my dear friends. Nothing else, really. And since i believe in the communion of saints, I get them all back anyway, at least I hope so.

The thought of death so very near is not exactly pleasant, but not entirely distasteful. The thought of not having lived by avoiding all risks is actually much worse for me. Now that no one really depends on me except Marsha for financial support, more risk in my life seems worthwhile. Not that I don't love Marsha, but she understands completely. The Sunday before I left for Vietnam, we flew in a Cessna to Friday Harbor for lunch. She is a person who lives with risk, and she gets it. So I think about her, tell her I love her in my heart, and step out into the street.