Falling

Perceptions are funny things.

I’ve taken to falling to earth quite a bit these last few months. It’s been kinda weird considering that I haven’t crashed all that often for decades.

It wasn’t always that way. As a child, I fell often. Quite often. Most children do. Most urchins sport band-aids and plasters because, well, children are ever exploring possibilities. And, in the process, they learn realities.

It’s best to become acquainted with the art of falling whilst young. Very young. I envied the tots I met on ski slopes. Tiny humans no taller than my kneecaps would gleefully glide past as I learned to ski...as a college student. I envied them. Their off-balance mayhem wasn’t anywhere near as dramatic (bruising) as my own. Two-foot high urchins weighing little more than a bag o’ Skittles don’t leave deep ruts in snow when they fall...as I did.

So. I fell often enough as a toddler, a youth, a young adult. But then I learned enough to stop falling (unless I was traversing ice which is a whole ‘nother story). I simply stayed upright. Feet planted firmly on ground.

Oh, there was the occasional face plant whilst running on forest trails. Autumn was my season for that, when leaves hid rocks and roots from these less-than-discerning eyes. I didn’t mind the occasional stumble and tumble. I was earning my trail-runner’s stripes. It all kinda came with the territory.

Even so, I stayed mostly upright throughout my “adult” years.

No longer. I’ve probably fallen more often these past three months than I had in the past three decades. I’ve become a bicyclist. It’s a sport requiring a modicum of skill and a good dollop of balance. I possess neither. What I possess is a badly corroded right hip that makes cycling (the mounting/dismounting aspect, particularly) an adventure.

So I fall. Often enough that my neighbors shout out to me (as I arrive home steam emanating): “Did you fall today?” Don't misunderstand, they’re good people, they don’t mock. I believe they are genuinely concerned (albeit amused) by my routine calamitous dismounts.

But, here’s the thing: Each and every time I fall to ground, it feels as if it’s all happening in Super Slo-Mo. It’s the weirdest phenomenon. Nowadays, when I lose my balance, bicycle keeling whilst feet are locked onto pedals, it all seems to happen at an inordinately leisurely pace. I have time enough to reflect upon my stupidity, my inadequacies, my family, friends and neighbors. I can ponder at length just how much it’s gonna hurt. It seems as if I have time enough, from initial teeter, to write my memoirs while I totter.

Perceptions are funny things.

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