I have always believed you can tell a lot about how a person lives by the way he or she drives. Now I have new evidence to support my theory.
I recently heard that a chain-reaction car accident was caused by overcorrection. A police officer or highway patrolman at the scene said something like, "The driver was trying to avoid another vehicle and swerved too far to the left."
I overcorrect all the time. When I catch myself moving too far in one direction, I switch gears and head the opposite way. And not just when I'm behind the wheel.
When I was younger and hurt by a boyfriend, I swore off men altogether. When I decided to start exercising after a lifetime of lethargy, I began by jogging 3 miles a day. When my son plays the soundtrack from "Shrek" for the 10th time in a row, I tell him if I hear it one more time, I'll take his CD player away. Extreme? Definitely.
And typical.
Some overreactions are harmless and even amusing in hindsight (our metaphorical rearview mirrors). Others linger dangerously.
Many therapists make a living helping adults overcome overcorrections they made as children: "If I ask for what I want, they won't give it to me" (so I can't ever ask for what I want) or "If I don't make my dad angry, he won't hit me" (so I can't do anything that might upset anyone).
These lessons help children survive under difficult circumstances, but become faulty bridges into adulthood as our realities and choices change.
Context is everything. Looking at a road map of Chicago will do me no good on the streets of New York. And relying on a coping mechanism that has outlived its usefulness will likewise leave me lost and confused.
Of course, our lives don't proceed along predictable paths. And the roads we know best are not the only roads there are. There are any number of ways to get from point A to point B, and personal freedom is all about being able to decide whether to take the scenic route, the fastest, or the road less traveled.
The surest trip in life is the one right down the middle, closest to the median and the yellow line. But who wants to do the expected all the time? On the road, it keeps us safe. But in our lives, it can be disappointing, especially when the most interesting things are often happening on the side roads, just beyond our peripheral vision.
Even the most focused person can get easily distracted. We sense a movement, turn to look, and bam get blindsided.
Maybe it's a man or woman who catches our eye and we end up in an affair we later regret. Maybe it's a vacation we can't afford. Maybe it's a shattering twist of fate we couldn't protect ourselves from, in spite of being buckled in and alert.
We all get in accidents. Some leave scars, permanent signal lights that mark us and warn others.
Despite all the signs we learn to read -- dangerous curves, uphill battle, dead end -- and the adjustments we learn to make, there is only the journey and our license to take it.
When was the last time you had yours renewed?
This LifeFiles column originally appeared on about 70 TV station websites managed by Internet Broadcasting Systems.