Impact: Papaya

Saturday, August 15, 2009

Papaya

I dropped a papaya
off the roof
to watch it smash on the ground.

Then I took lots of close-up pictures of the carcass
Why?

The car accident was an act of destruction
in which I feel I was forced to participate
I was not the author of those moments,
nor an arbiter of the physics
mass
velocity
vector force of metal on flesh
I was not acting deliberately or willfully in any way
I can't even remember what happened

It has left me
unmoored,
demolished,
furious.
It has turned my skin inside out.

I DECIDED to drop the papaya,
I carried it up the stairs,
I opened the door,
I held it out over empty space, and
I dropped it.

CRASH

I documented it myself
the pulp oozing out of the rind
the juice flowing into the grass
no police or coroners necessary.

And I cleaned it up.

Finished.

3 comments:

Tanya Ruckstuhl-ValentiAugust 16, 2009 at 12:38 PM
Wow! What an incredibly difficult journey you are on and how elegantly you put words around the unspeakable. Thank you for your courage.
ReplyDelete
Replies
AnonymousSeptember 1, 2009 at 6:33 PM
the crazy thing is, life is really complicated. complicated and confusing, and even though "they" say all things happen for a reason, no one ever qualifies that with a "good" reason...some things will never make sense. but. there is still life and hope and love and plenty of battles to be fought that need your energy, creativity and soulful input. that is also your impact.
ReplyDelete
Replies
artconstellationOctober 27, 2009 at 10:57 AM
I hope that you are doing ok... Jenny (artconstellation AT gmail.com)
ReplyDelete
Replies

Add comment

About IMPACT

I started this blog to help myself process an unimaginable tragedy: At a few minutes after 8AM on February 3, 2009, my Nissan Pathfinder hit two pedestrians, sisters, and killed them. My memory starts with the airbags slamming into me.

I am shaking and nauseous writing this.

I was living in Nicaragua, where the roads are filled simultaneously with pedestrians, bicycles, horse-carts, moto-cabs, dogs, all manner of freight trucks from rickety pick-ups to 18-wheelers, ancient US school buses, and mini-buses and taxis determined to economize fuel by never stopping. Under Nicaraguan law drivers in accidents where someone is hurt badly are all jailed for at least 24 hours.

No one knows what caused my accident, although my brother discovered that Nissan had issued a Technical Advisory to mechanics' shops on my year and model because the airbags were detonating spontaneously. As my car was one of the very few with airbags in the country, no one, not even the Nissan dealer repair shop, had ever mentioned anything. I will never know if fault lies with the faulty airbags, and the not knowing is terrifying.

All traumas are unique. Our human reactions to trauma have traits in common. Though everyone will have their own path toward healing, I am certain we can help one another by sharing, witnessing, and affirming.

I have also been diagnosed with bipolar disorder type II, which means I miss the fun (ha!) of full-blown mania. I have suffered from severe recurrent depression and anxiety since I was a teenager.