On October 14th 2013, a week after the craziness of my senior homecoming, I received a call that the guy who usually does Sunday milking was sick and needed someone to cover for him. Being a nice guy, and a guy who really likes cows, I agreed to take his shift on the condition that he would buy me some ice cream (I’m easy to please).
I had worked as a milker at PerryDell Dairy for about a year, then, so I knew utterly everything (*cues laugh track for insatiable pun*) I could know about a small dairy in York, Pennsylvania.
I went through the motions, herding the cattle into the chute and progressively milking. I had it down to a science. Eventually, it was time to milk the “sick” cattle. Usually, they are not sick, they are just resting after giving birth or are in a dry spell and need a little coaxing from a young, strapping bull.
If the bull was in the pen with the ladies, I would get some sort of note letting me know to be cautious. There wasn’t any, so I proceeded with the parade of the big ladies.
While I had my back turned, I found myself suddenly flipping over backwards. Then, there was darkness. When I came to, I found myself pinned between a rotting wall covered with tin siding and a 1-ton animal who seemed a little angry. Bulls, and most dudes, don’t like it when you play Mr. Steal Yo Girl.
The bull was pushing himself into my rib cage and my head into a piece of the tin siding. It didn’t look great. I yelled for help, but no one came to my rescue, so it was up to me.
With pretty much only adrenaline pumping through me, I kicked the bull to the side as he reared up for another gut shot, and I ran to the other side of the barn to flip over the fence. Once I got there, I rolled over to see the bull huffing next to the fence, and that’s the last thing I saw until the flickering of hospital lights woke me up a day later.
The lovely people at York Hospital told me I had four broken ribs, two cracked ribs, pieces of my femur relocated to my ankle, bumps, bruises; and oh yeah, they let me know that I died for 10 seconds on the table.
The tin siding had sliced a nice cut into the side of my head, and let’s just say that it was more like a splash zone at Seaworld than a normal cut. I had lost enough blood to make my heart stop.
So, I knocked elbows with Death, and he wasn’t too happy about it.
After the accident and months of therapy, I found myself doing what every college-bound senior does: having an existential crisis. What was I going to do with my life? What was I going to be? And another lovely question, Will my hair ever grow the same way it did?
I started doing a little research on life, and I realized that the only thing you can do is figure it out for yourself. Below, I am going to list some things— in no particular order, I might add— that have taken me from mortally-wounded teenager to slightly-stubbly, mortally-wounded adult (which is still debatable).
7. Sometimes, the instructions aren’t included.
When I was a kid, my mother would always make us cookie-cutter cookies. They were delicious and sugary, but when I tried to make them as an adult, they looked more like blobs. Blobs just aren’t that delicious, either. A lot of the things you do will never come with a well-thought-out list of what to do. We are just kind of winging it, anyways.
Sometimes, you’ll have to build your own canoe like Nick Offerman did in his memoir “Paddle Your Own Canoe”. He tells his readers about making your own things (for him its using woodworking to build everything south of a super computer) and how once you mess up one chair, you start to get the hang of making chairs. So, go out and really screw up a chair, people.
6. Try to Wu-Wei it.
At the same time I was suffering from head trauma and senioritis, I took a philosophy class at Dallastown Area High School. In that philosophy class, we researched the philosophical ideologies of the Dao (or Tao). In the Dao, there is this idea of Wu-Wei which is basically, “go with the flow.” The Dao says that much of the world is always trying to balance itself, so there are many things outside of your control. Adapt, survive, and thrive, or throw on some Netflix and forget your troubles. Things, within reason, do have a way of working themselves out.
5. Treat. Yo. Self.
In the show “Parks and Recreation,” Rhonda and Tom have a “Treat Yo'self” day where they encourage each other to do something for themselves. I say if you want it— and there is no harm in buying it/doing it— what do you have to lose? I like short-shorts, so I buy a lot of those. They are pretty nice, dudes, pretty nice.
4. Spontaneity.
Do something crazy. Go skydiving, go bungee jumping, go where you have never thought to go before. After the accident, I went to this little thing called Faerie Festival at Spoutwood Farms in Glen Rock, PA. It's something that my lumberjack self would never have thought to go to, but when that drum circle started up, I was hooked.
Do something outside of your comfort zone because you’ll either get a great story or a pretty decent memory or, in the case of Faerie Festival, a pair of Fairy wings (I’m both proud and un-proud of those things).
3. Learn how to be alone and find your flow there.
You learn, once you have had your insides on your outsides, that life is too damn short and impermanent. One of the most crucial things I can tell you is that you are going to spend nights where no one can hang out, you live in a new place, or you just can’t find the urge to get out of bed. Being alone is really hard but something everyone has to learn. Try watching Netflix by yourself a couple nights or finally picking up that dusty guitar.
There is this idea, in the Dao (it’s pretty cool you should check it out), of Flow. It is that really awesome feeling you get when you are doing something you love doing, and you get a stupid look on your face. For me, it’s my guitar, and as many people can attest, my rather obnoxious guitar face.
1. Find your voice.
Literally, every musical (for the most part) is about someone or something find his/hers/its voice; even "High School Musical" has Troy Bolton belting notes while he plays basketball. Once you find the things that interest you and the people you want to be around— all of which you find with practice and experience— you come to this beautiful place of finding your voice.
So, from the boy who lived, take a few minutes and really think about all that life has to offer you. You’re not getting out alive, so you might as well slap on a smile, eat some waffles, buy that scarf, go cage diving with sharks, and have a hell of a good time doing it.
