Pondering the Fall

photo copyright Mark Spires

Perhaps because one month of the year has already fled, and I am still in my dithering limbo or "to kidney or not to kidney," I am focused on health. Like a sunbeam breaking gold-intense through the clouds, the topic of healthy living streams into mind over and over during the course of a day.

What is health? I find myself wondering this morning. How much health does one have to possess to count oneself healthy? Is the goal to be completely illness and injury free at all times? Or do health challenges, like other obstacles in life, provide those small storms, those moments of contrast, that allow for an appreciation of the balmy spring days of wellness?

"I am not afraid of storms, for I am learning how to sail my ship," wrote Louisa May Alcott.

I find myself musing that perhaps storms are exactly what we need on our voyages through this life, that without them the calm of the waters would be unbearably monotonous.

At this moment, I have the worst bruise of my entire life, a hidden sunset of purple, pink, green and yellow, tucked away below my left breast. It is my sole injury from an embarrassing fall this week. In a moment of mindlessness, I slipped as I stepped into our open bathtub to wash off my feet. With only one foot below me, the scum of soap I stepped on acted as a sled, and I skidded into a slow, cross-legged sit, bringing my left side down on the faucet as I fell.

Falling like that is an awkward shake-up, a reminder that life is not nearly as safe and controlled or stable as we like to think. The realization of how badly I could have been injured but wasn't is sobering. This is the kind of fall, I think, that breaks ribs and hips of the frail eldery, spiraling them into the descent. Just one moment, and the end can begin.

In total, though, the fall feels like some strange sort of success. It feels like brushing against a terrible fate, only to evade it. Because I've been doing yoga, my muscles engaged to slow and control the fall even with nothing to brace myself against. My body automatically folded itself well, not coming down on top of my ankle, leg, or wrist in what would have been a nasty break. My hips and spine absorbed the shock without protest, due no doubt to engagement of my core muscles. And thankfully, the impact occured in my breast and not my side ribs.

The pain has already subsided. The healing, automatic. I'm inclined to see this horrible bruise as an emblem of accomplishment, a badge of disaster avoided. Within minutes, my vital life force had already begun the process of healing, of assessing the damage and rebuilding the tissues with pulses of blood, of electricity, of energy.

So, again, I wonder - is health avoiding the fall, or is it the ability to recover quickly and completely?