As I was dressing for work this morning, I took a moment to marvel at the cute black strappy sandals adorning my feet. They have a slightly Bohemian look with a bit of gold in all the right places and they coordinate beautifully with my red, perfectly polished toenails. I am especially proud of them because I paid for and purchased them at Target early this summer. They have a “feisty, fun, more expensive than they are” look….and since I’ve been on a bit of a purchasing freeze, these shoes were a delightful treat.
I made it to work in one piece and was having a fairly uneventful, happy day. Lunch was leftover spaghetti and green beans from last night (why is spaghetti so much yummier the day after it is cooked?) I remembered that I told a co-worker I would deliver an envelope to the courthouse for her this afternoon. Glad for the opportunity to get fresh air, I grabbed the envelope and headed out of my windowless office, (which used to be a holding cell in the old jail) and into the beautiful sunshine.
It’s warm and humid, like it usually is before an Oklahoma storm. The sun’s warm rays felt like a soft blanket on my skin. Downtown near the courthouse is quite the place to be for anyone who enjoys people watching…thus, I could occupy myself there for quite some time. While I was observing everyone around me, I noticed a family of four whom I assumed to be homeless, in front of me. Mom, Dad and two young children…they intrigued me and I wanted their picture. Instead of taking a picture, I cursed my phone for being dead and totally missed turning on the block where the courthouse is.
This missed turn meant that I had to walk all the way around the block again to reach my destination. I was thinking that although my sandals might be adorable, walking comfort they were not. I reasoned with myself, “If you are going to traipse all over town in this job, you will need different shoes.” Guess what happened then?
Coinciding perfectly with my self chiding, the front of my sandal caught in the sidewalk grate and I WENT FLYING FORWARD. I hate to fall. I hate it, hate it, hate it. It sounds silly, yet I believe it’s likely a PTSD response from sudden falling in past passing out episodes. What is the natural response of falling? At least for me, it doesn’t matter initially how bad it hurt, innate pride takes over. I jumped up, worked hard to straighten my boo boo’ed knees and walked on as I held my startled tears back.
I recomposed myself before walking around the corner to the big courthouse doors. I put my purse and envelope on the security conveyor belt before I greeted the guards. One of them looked at me and asked if I was alright. I affirmed that I was with a nod, and put on innocent airs of not knowing why she was asking. She nodded down at my foot…which was gushing blood, mixing nicely with the blood running down my leg from my scraped knee. LOL! “I’m FINE, I fell but it doesn’t even hurt.” She gave me a blank stare while I looked down at my blood and asked where the restroom was so I could clean up.
I am truly okay. My foot hurts a little, my knees are tender, my pretty sandals are scuffed, my perfectly polished toes are now imperfectly polished, my pride is punctured and I am okay. However, I wasn’t FINE when I said I was.
My mind went instantly to a Ted Talk that a dear friend sent me this morning. The speaker’s point was that we stay stuck in life because of the four letter word, F$%@! (Not the obscene English language word I had first thought) I wonder…how would our lives be different if we were all honest and vulnerable with each other instead of often presenting the world with “FINE”? This is definitely a thought worth pondering.
Knights in shining armor fall. Goddesses fall. President’s fall, children fall, parents fall, Princesses fall too. WE ALL FALL. Trust this truth. Why the fear of falling?
Now…I’d love to present my readers with a picture of my injuries…but my phone is dead.