Coming down off the ledge
The ledge to which I refer could be an actual ledge or it could be emblematic of an instance where the “woe is me” reflex actively takes over the peace and calm in which you luxuriated just seconds before.
If you’re like me in these instances – and I sincerely hope you are not – you assume the worst and project a dire outcome. This outcome projection may be somewhere near close to death, or even death itself if your imagination has its way with you. And guess what? If you’re like me – and this time I hope you are like me – you discover you were armed for bear but hunting squirrel.
Translation: your freak-out had no foundation on which to stand.
But we can get caught up in the emotion of it all, or the excruciating pain experience, and we start writing our obituary and wondering which photo should be included therein.
Case in point but definitely not as serious as death: my husband and I came back from a delightful two week vacation in Hawaii last week, arriving very late Wednesday evening, crawling into bed very early Thursday morning, one of us waking up mid-morning Thursday, ambling down the stairs for a cup of coffee, and missing the bottom stair.
Kerplunk!! Ass on the foyer hardwoods, my left ankle disgustingly twisted.
Quick action was required: plop my foot/leg on a pile of pillows and surround the mangled extremity with ice packs, of which we have many. Husband sitting to my right holding my hand – the perfect calming influence for me – me wondering if we’d be heading to the ER posthaste and should I change out of my nightclothes prior to doing so? And what about brushing my teeth? Should I forego such niceties?
Just one hour later having eased into being in the present moment rather than in some future moment, a trip to the ER became just a fantasy element of my creative literary mind. My ankle hurt like hell, but let’s face it, I was able to walk on it and if it were broken such efforts would have resulted in me landing on my derriere yet again because of a compromised bone structure required to prevent such a fall.
I did go to the doctor the following day just to make sure it wasn’t broken because I didn’t want to head into the weekend with that unknown looming over my head. And I’m glad I saw Dr. Liu, had I not, I wouldn’t have been able to add the following fashion accessory to my wardrobe:
I’m doing better with the armed for bear scenario ever since I started living the principles outlined in Ariel and Shya Kane’s many books, including Practical Enlightenment. I have a long way to go toward living in the moment 24/7, but I’m getting there faster than I would have in years past. And that’s a very good thing because where I live, bears and squirrels exist in abundance, and I’d rather not tangle with either of them.
Living: the ultimate team sport 