Of course my classic fall got me thinking about the internal injuries to my pride and spirit as of late. I seem to have veered off my chosen path for a while, and so many stumbles have resulted in what sometimes feels like a hopeless spiral into an abyss from which I cannot return.
Wow! That was super depressing what I just wrote! This is a fun blog! Ponies and rainbows! Kitty cats and cupcakes! That which does not kill you makes you stronger! Sometimes you have to take two steps back before you take one step forward! The harder to get, the better to have! Two roads diverged in yellow wood... !
What?!
Ok, enough cliches and Robert Frost, my ass really hurts. The bottom line is this: I have been falling a lot lately. Sometimes it's a wake-up call, and other times it really hurts. Either way, I am learning. I am learning to look at the bigger picture. Learning to love myself, learning to laugh at my imperfections, and learning that falling is inevitable.
In discussing my shortcomings with a close friend of mine, I came to what I think is a comforting conclusion: perhaps it's not how many times one falls, perhaps it's all about the grace of the recovery. And the more and more we fall, the more we accept our shortcomings with a better sense of self. The hope is that between each fall the recovery time becomes less and less, because our coping skills become sharper after every incident.
I think I also have to be open to the fact that as I shed more and more of my protective padding (literally and figuratively - those who've known me for a while can tell you that my booty used to be much larger) I have to come to terms with just how exposed I am to the world. I suppose the risks make everything more worthwhile in the end. But one thing is for certain, I do learn from my mistakes. Next time I'm leaving Leah and Ben's apartment I'm either going to have had less to drink or someone to hold my hand.
