Few recounts and plenty of beer have passed these lips since those days; none of which has helped nor harmed me. I could proclaim the experience changed my life prophetically. However, sometimes i don't believe that to be the case. Did it make me a better parent? Activist? Listener? No. Allow me to be more compassionate to my fellow man? A better lover to women? Not one iota I'm afraid. I'm exactly the same yet completely different. See; I'm human.
So how do i define it??? I've just started to try and will perhaps for many years to come... search for the meaning of why I'm still here. Though for now, I think I've pinpointed it to one sentence. A reflection that says exactly what it comes down to.
What happened was simply put... A fire, one that nearly outflanked me, almost killed me and chased me to the "razors edge"