I fell a couple of weeks ago. I was in the kitchen at work and slipped on a piece of cucumber I hadn’t noticed lying on the floor.
It was a textbook, slapstick-style movie fall. Both feet went flying up from beneath me and I landed hard, my body sprawled out like a starfish on the beach. The resounding crash of my landing brought my co-workers running to the kitchen door.
Naturally, I tried to pretend it was nothing. That I wasn’t hurt.
Needless to say, my body was not happy — with my attitude nor the fall.
I’ve been going for treatment, ice, heat, creams, taking it easy. Not lifting things. You know, playing the princess prima donna. But in truth, I really messed up my left side so if I want to heal, I need to heed the doctor’s advice. Take it easy.
And I was. Until Saturday that is.
I was at an event where dancing is the order of business.
I love to dance. Love it.
My challenge is, when the music starts, I lose all sense and sensibility. I forget how my body feels and let the music take me where ever it wants to go.
On Saturday, it took me.
And now my body is saying, it took you too far.
Okay. Okay. Being 100% accountable for my actions means I can’t lay the blame on my body. I let it happen. And whining isn’t going to change any of that, nor is blaming it on the music!
Whining is not the point of writing this out anyway. It’s about finding the value in all things, looking for the gift in the mud, seeing the beauty in the darkness.
And that’s where I’m struggling. To find lightness of being when my body feels like it was hit by a truck. To remember, this too shall pass and I shall once again not feel like an old lady with arthritic bones.
Oh wait. I am edging closer to being an old lady than a lithe young thing. And I do have arthritis!
Maybe the point of this is to find the grace that resides within, no matter my body’s age, and to let the joy of being who I am supersede the way I feel right now.
To acknowledge dancing like no one is watching doesn’t mean dancing by letting it all hang out. It means, learning to heed my body’s signals of when it’s appropriate to let go of every joint, muscle, and inhibition when I dance. And when it’s not.
It means letting the music have its way with my senses, not my sensibilities.
Perhaps the point is, I love to dance, but just as I no longer jog, maybe it’s time to curb the free stylin’ and become a little more in tune with not just the music, but my body too.
Because believe me, falling has jaundiced my outlook and my back being out of sorts has cramped my style! And it’s definitely given me pause for reflection, to stop and think about the things I’m doing that do not create ‘the more’ of what I want in my life.
Fact is, I’ve never really treated my body like a temple. I’ve never considered its needs before my desire to go places, get things done, feel free of constraints.
Perhaps, it’s time to grow up and tune into the music within so that the music around me doesn’t carry me away from all sense and sensibility!