Yesterday, somebody drove into my car.

It was an odd situation. I was driving behind a hesitant learner who moved into a right-turn filter lane, then unexpectedly moved back into the main carriageway and hit me. It turned out they were on their driving test, so there was a driving examiner sitting beside them.

What happened involved a borrowed car, temporary insurance, the vehicle owner arriving at the roadside, and eventually the examiner’s manager arriving too. It was, objectively, a bit of a circus.

But the thing I’ve been thinking about since isn’t really the accident.

It’s how I responded to it.

Not that long ago, a sudden stressful situation like that would have brought very high emotion with it. I might have become overwhelmed by what had happened, lost some of my ability to think clearly, or been so focused on the emotions that I didn’t collect the information I’d later need.

Yesterday, I didn’t.

I stayed calm. I stayed physically and mentally engaged with what was happening. I asked questions. I photographed the insurance certificate, got the policy number and vehicle owner’s details, made sure I had what I reasonably could, and later passed everything to my insurer.

I wasn’t emotionless. That’s not the achievement.

I was regulated enough to remain useful to myself.

Afterwards, predictably, my brain started auditing my performance. I hadn’t taken the driving examiner’s details. Had I missed something else? Was the temporary insurance legitimate? How was anyone going to unravel all of this?

Then I realised something else.

That isn’t my job.

My responsibility was to deal with the immediate situation, gather the information available to me, record what happened and report it. I had done that. The investigation and resolution now belong to my insurer.

There are things I’d do differently if it happened again. There almost always are. But learning from something doesn’t require deciding that you handled it badly.

In fact, this showed me something I probably wouldn’t otherwise have noticed: I’ve changed.

Progress isn’t always visible while you’re making it. Sometimes you discover it when life abruptly tests a skill you didn’t realise you’d been developing.

Yesterday gave me that test.

I kept my cool. I advocated for myself. I collected what I needed. And, importantly, I have recognised where my responsibility ends.

As I left, I waved to the learner and said, “Better luck next time.”

With hindsight, perhaps that applies to both of us.

He gets another go at his driving test.

And I got unexpected evidence that proves I’m becoming better at navigating life again.