Precarious and stable

Our lives are both "precarious and stable," John Dewey often observed. We strive for stability, and too readily take it for granted -- until the unforeseen and the unthinkable happen.

Public events like 9/11 can disrupt our stability, and shake the complacency out of us for a brief while. For a time we think we understand the precarious nature of existence. And then, invariably and until the next shock, we forget. It's probably a good thing that we do. There must be an evolutionary advantage in the capacity to overlook all the impending possibilities of chaos and get on with humdrum daily living.

But, disruptive and disorienting as a public calamity can be, personal tragedy may be even more searing. We nearly lost a little girl we love this week, one of our younger daughter's closest friends. It was her custom, on returning from school each afternoon, to hop out of the car and grab the mail. This time she impulsively detoured from the mailbox, scrambling under the idling car to retrieve a ball. She never imagined -- as the driver, her babysitter, never imagined -- the nightmare to follow. The babysitter thought C. had already run up the hill to the house, not seeing her duck under the car.

It's painful to picture what happened next. I'll simply say that C. survived what could so easily have been her last impulsive act on earth. She is at home this morning, bruised and battered but expected to recover completely. Her condition is stable, and rapidly improving. But I hope she never forgets that every moment of life is precarious. And precious.