A few years ago, I was hustling down the stairs in my socks when my feet when out from under me. Before I knew it, I was lying on the floor at the bottom of the stairs, staring up at the white ceiling above.
Sheila, who had been outside at the time, heard me fall and came running inside, asking if I was ok.
It took me a minute to answer.
I threw my body around a lot as an athlete, but I’m not sure that there is anything quite as startling as falling down so suddenly, especially as you get older. Whether it’s slipping on the ice, getting bitten by the turf monster, or sliding on your wooden stairs, suddenly losing your feet is incredibly disconcerting.
Which is presumably where the expression “having the rug pulled out from underneath you” comes from. When we have the rug pulled out from underneath us, it can be an incredibly disconcerting experience.
Yesterday that happened to me twice, metaphorically speaking, in a few different ways. I’d argue that most of us have had a similar experience multiple times in the past few months. And I don’t know about you, but as I sit here and type this, despite the constantly and frantically shifting terrain, I still find the abrupt changes incredibly disconcerting.
But also, as I type this, I am reminded of what the actual physical process of having the rug pulled out from under you looks like, and how you cope.
First and foremost, your perspective changes. One minute you’re standing up, looking straight ahead, thinking about what to have for lunch, and the next minute, you’re flat on your back, looking at the sky and wondering how you could possibly have gone from standing to lying flat that quickly….and even more so, wondering how you could go so fast from feeling as though you were in control, to realizing that control is not always in your hands.
Second of all, you have to spend a few minutes figuring out what’s ok and what’s not ok. When you first fall, you’re sure that nothing is ok and nothing is going to be ok. Your Worst Case Scenario Wilma (my alter ego) is the first on the scene when that rug is tugged on you. She is sure that something is broken, something is sprained and wondering if your phone is close enough to have Siri dial 911. And whether or not the door is unlocked.
But gradually, as you take inventory of the situation, you scan your body and realize what is ok and what is not ok. In my case, as I slowed down and paid attention to my body, I realized that I was mostly ok. And before you know it, you are likely feeling some gratitude for what is ok. (While also making an appointment with your chiropractor for your back, which is now a bit out of whack…)
Finally, you develop some resilience (and in some cases, precautions) to protect yourself in the future. In terms of my actual falling down the stairs, I haven’t walked down our wooden staircase without holding onto the hand rail since the fall happened. I’m reasonably fit and athletic, but I’ll never forget exactly how quickly that fall happened. So I’m much more mindful in some situations.
And, as I wrote about a few weeks ago – I’ve come to understand that even though our lives, situations, and expectations can change in an instant – so too can our ability to persevere.