The Fall

Setting The Scene

Tripping over a bump in the pavement while trying to avoid a sprinkler system jetting water all over the sidewalk, I flailed in what felt like slow motion onto the ground in the middle of a 4-lane thoroughfare.  Lying prone with my cheek on the warm smooth pavement, four questions consecutively and immediately rushed through my mind.

  1. Did anyone see me?
  2. Did I check for traffic?
  3. When is the pain coming?
  4. Can I turn this into a blog post?
The only difference between myself and the gentleman above is I had my shirt on.
Photo by nic on Unsplash

Blog Post Ideas

Jumping up self-consciously and returning to my jog albeit with a limp and blood running down my leg, I pondered ideas to turn a seemingly negative event into a positive, chew-on-this epistle.

Should it be about pushing yourself too hard?

No, my excited walk can hardly be called pushing.  Even the snail who lapped me agreed that wasn’t an appropriate angle.

Should it be about failure and picking yourself up again?

Nope…it didn’t resonate as true, and in my writing, I at least strive for authenticity…even my authentic self changes moment to moment.

Then, it hit me…virtually weeks later…seconds after the dog inspected my wound and gave it a lick.  Yes, dogs are gross, but at least their mouths are cleaner than ours, so not likely to go septic.

Sometimes, bad things happen for no reason.

I know hardly an epiphany but bear with me, it’ll get better.

Waiting For It To Get Better

Sometimes the only reason for a sucky moment is to provide contrast and illuminate those things we do want in our lives. For example, a glass of spilled milk makes us appreciate a clean floor.  Or a hole in our favorite sweater can illuminate how lucky we are to have hole-free clothing. 

And sometimes a fall can make me appreciate how much I love being upright and unwounded.

That’s it…no great revelation, but here’s where the chew-factor comes in.

The Chew-Factor

I choose whether I put my focus on the fall, agonize how I got there and berate myself for my lack of grace or I can use the contrast to put my focus into appreciating those things I don’t think about in my daily life like:

  • Gravity.
  • The sympathy of the others, in particular the nursing home residents at the window who rubbed their hips in commiseration and that of my family which I exploited thoroughly.
  • Access to medical care –  The nursing home was next to the hospital…in case I needed it which I apparently didn’t…skinned knees and elbows don’t rate high on the triage list. 
  • And that while I don’t bounce like I used to, I don’t break either.

Here’s to looking up or at least above ground level.

My attempt at more sympathy.
Leave a Reply

Your thoughts