It’s a beautiful sunny afternoon. The sky over the rolling hills of the French countryside reminds me of Montana big sky. The light is a warm golden that is reminiscent of impressionist paintings.

Three weeks ago my partner, Mark, and I were passengers in my friends’ car. They are off to Ikea and we, to Leonardo Da Vinci’s home and to pick up a rental car. The next destination of our trip, Giverny and Monet’s garden.

A few weeks before I’d received a message in a guided mediation to go to France, in particular, to Monet’s garden. I would find a dormant piece of my soul there. I was excited to find out what it might be.

It came so quickly, a huge white delivery truck, the sound of two vehicles colliding, glass spattering everywhere, the car being pushed into a field, smoke and when it was over, not being able to breath.

Excuse me, this was not on the itinerary! Everyone was holding their chest waiting for the air that had been forced out of our lungs to return. When it came back so did the pain. Each breath was a struggle. I had broken ribs and sternum and Mark would stay in the hospital with internal bleeding. Lucky to be alive!

In the ensuing days, the big white truck and the sound of the crash would visit me constantly.

While one part of me was saying, “What the fuck?,” my interior space was oddly quiet. There was no angst, no fear, no worry. None of the normal things that would occupy my thoughts were there. They didn’t matter. None of it mattered.

Days after the accident, my friend, Laurence, who a week before was bemoaning the fact that she needed to quit her job but was stuck, had the courage to quit.

For me, I had let self doubt, fear, anxiety and my figuring it out parts hold way too much air-time. Now, my interior space is still pretty quiet with moments of joy. My mantra is, “if not now, when?” As a result, I’ve decided to invest in some big dreams. There’s an odd relaxed sense of urgency. None of it matters and yet it matters deeply.

Years ago I worked with a Shaman who believed one could not truly live until they faced their death. Now, I understood what he meant. Yes, I think I’ve recovered the dormant piece of my soul.

I invite you to check in with those dreams that are calling and ask, “If not now, when?” Hopefully, you won’t need a big white truck in order to make it happen.

P.S. On the last day of our trip we finally got to Monet’s garden.