Yesterday, I was boasting about Sheila the Subaru's winter prowess. Today, I sat in a foot of snow with no cell service, no electricity, and nothing but time to contemplate how perfectly I managed to transurf my way into this predicament.

Sheila and I were stuck.

Bootsy Greenwood is a friend from whom I learned best the principles of transurfing. His YouTube channel is a gem, as is his humor. And earlier, as I created snow angels with my Subaru, I could just see that knowing grin of his.

Here's the thing – it wasn't the choice to drive in the snow that created the imbalance. Not at all. Sheila the Subaru can handle winter roads like a champ. Nothing arrogant about knowing your capabilities.

No, what's arrogant is pulling into the driveway and chanting smuggly "Like a boss" like a proud mama who thinks her kid is better than everyone else's.

Arrogant is also looking at that completely optional, unnecessarily steep hill leading up to the house and deciding to go for it because, well, Sheila can.

That right there? That's what Vadim Zeland, author of Reality Transurfing, calls excess potential – that energetic imbalance that occurs when we attach too much importance to something we want. And let me tell you, I created enough excess potential to power a small city.

Sheila could have gotten up that hill, but today, Sheila didn't.

What she did do, was manage to slide back down the hill, packing her back end in a bank of brush and snow. 

The universe, being the perfect conductor of energy that it is, had to balance things out.

These balancing forces aren't punishment. They're more like a natural law, as neutral as gravity. When you create an energetic bubble of pure hubris like "watch me conquer this totally unnecessary obstacle," reality doesn't get offended.

It doesn't try to teach you a lesson. It simply corrects, often in the most ironically perfect way possible. 

I imagine the universe saying to Sheila the Subaru as she slid down the hill,

"Girl you look good wont you back that thing up" and like a good little Subaru, she did just that.

If I've learned one thing from Bootsy, it's that laughter is key. It's a way of reducing importance rather than adding to it. I decided to record the whole adventure for my best friend, turning my predicament into an impromptu comedy show.

I even brought Moose and Jakari (the dogs I was checking on) into the performance, holding serious consultations with them about our shared predicament, "What do you guys think about my wheel alignment strategy here? Professional opinion only, please." I also asked if they'd mind my staying the night if I couldn't get out, and their enthusiastic response suggested they thought being stuck was the best idea I'd had all day.

At one point with no humans around to help push, I found myself rocking back and forth in the driver's seat, trying to create the momentum of someone pushing from behind. The moment I caught myself doing this ridiculous body-rocking motion, I couldn't help but burst into "I Wanna Rock With You" by Michael Jackson. Turns out Moose and Jakari are a tough crowd.

I got out, thank goodness, just as it turned dark. Using a combination of rocking back and forth and the M mode that turned my car into a stick shift, I got traction and found my way into the grooves I'd created on the way in.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to go have a humble conversation with Sheila about our future winter adventures – this time with a lot less hubris and a lot more humility.