The Tank Slapper

Rising over the hill’s crest and curving left while dropping downhill, the car drifts.

Not the drift of a calculated slide through a turn, but the wily drift of understeer:

Where the car’s momentum insists on one direction, the steering wheel another, and the tires protest trying to obey the wheel while at momentum’s mercy.

The road beneath me carries the damp of fresh-fallen rain. Not enough to shift me into ‘wet weather mode’, but enough to steal precious, much-needed traction.

My passenger-side wheels stray towards the white line at the road’s edge, flirting with the small gravel-strewn shoulder bordering a ditch that’s eyeing me like a hawk.

“Nope, let’s not go in there,” I think while giving the wheel a firm jerk towards the left.

This arrests the understeer and we’re safe from drifting wide into the ditch, but now the opposite problem appears: oversteer. Where the rear wobbles side to side, threatening to tip you into what’s known as a tank slapper.

If you do nothing, the car’s momentum will shift from travelling forward to moving laterally. There’s a point of no return, then the rear breaks traction and you spin.

The margin for error narrows to the width of a string.

When you’re wobbling, panic will punch your ticket to the ditch. 

As will stomping the brakes, where the sudden return of grip causes the front to dive and plant while the rear’s momentum continues oscillating back-and-forth, building rapidly into a spin that not even the world’s most talented drivers can save.

So if you resist the growing loss of control, game over.

Safety comes from keeping the car oriented forward while managing the speed you’re carrying: this is the tightrope you suddenly find yourself walking.

As the wiggles intensify, time collapses. 

I spare half a second for half a breath, then realize I don’t have time to think.

Instinct cuts in.

My feet dance on the pedals in perfect harmony.

My left jumps from the dead pedal to the brake, applying just enough pressure to make the front end dive without decelerating. At the same time, my right lifts slightly off the gas. Together, only a little speed is bled and the car settles.

My left foot brought steadiness while the right maintained intention.

I don’t feel relieved though. 

Instead, I’m fucking ecstatic.

As I settle back into my rhythm and continue towards home, an impish grin stretches across my face. This moment of sliding at speed on a slippery surface called forth techniques and steadiness I’ve been cultivating for months.

I was tested, and I didn’t panic.

I didn’t freeze. I didn’t crash. Instead, I regained my centre with skill I built. And on this damp stretch of windy road, I found a mirror-in-motion for Mythic Alchemy.

The road is The Starlight Tightrope.

The wobbling came courtesy of The Trickster.

The Slow Weaving of Devotional Trust allowed the crash-saving micro-adjustments to spring from body, not mind. The Wellspring of Devotion held my commitment. 

And regaining steadiness was possible thanks to The Tonic of Coherence.

With love from the forest,

~ Alexander

P.S. The Tonic of Coherence is the recent Gravity of Coherence Whimsie turned into a Velvet Telegram, which contains the step-by-step process for building coherence. 

Also: I shared a new singing video last week. An early take from one of my October songs. I like how this sounds already, and am very excited to see what the comparison looks like at month’s end.