Friday, April 13, 2012

Falling Down

I fell the other day.

Like, on my ass. I have the hand-sized, eggplant-colored bruise on my left butt cheek to prove it. I'd take a photo and show you, but I have a moral problem with showing my ass to the internet. Plus: cellulite. I'm sure I needn't say more.

I hadn't fallen in years. If memory serves, it may have actually been 12 years since my previous bail in the dirt. This particular fall was witnessed by all members of my immediate family, and laughed at heartily. It's a humbling experience.

I've been thinking a lot about falling down, metaphorically. We fall, fall, fall, and get back up, dust ourselves off, check out our disgusting ass-bruises in the mirror and then carry on. I wonder if we ever fall, hit our heads, and slip into a coma, but think we got back up and are carrying back on. Like Inception.

I can't address my previous post right now, but I will. I've been thinking about it quite a lot. Thanks for hanging in there.

3 comments:

  1. You haven't fallen in YEARS? I think I fall about once every two weeks. I look at falling like a badge of honor. . . kicking myself for not taking a pic of the huge bruise I got last week from falling over on my bike. It was awesome!

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    1. Oh dear Suzanne. The difference is you fall while doing active things that are good for your body. I fall after three glasses of wine, simply walking from one place to the other.

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  2. I am also a faller. My most recent, after a "race to the front door" with my five year old, ended with me tripping on our front steps, and falling into the hedges.

    These scars on my legs will be with me now forever, a permanent reminder not to race my daughter.

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