I stared up at the light and had a chuckle. I felt like a spaceship after an intergalactic battle. I did a systems check: left arm-okay, right arm-okay, head-fine, back-solid, legs-just fine. I couldn't get up right away even though I was soaking wet and all lathered up. I kept thinking about that second.
All my life I've had the occasional slip in the shower. Perhaps a little soap gets underneath my foot and then I move the foot and slip a touch, catch myself and say whoa that was close. Not this time. This time I slipped and could not regain my balance. For the first time in my life I couldn't stop it. I had only been in the shower for a minute. I gave myself a full body lather with the body wash, but before I could rinse and repeat I lost control.
As I slipped, it dawned on me that I was going down. Then there was that second. In my cramped little bathroom the toilet and sink are right alongside the bathtub/shower. I was going down and out of the corner of my eye I saw where I was going. I was gonna get a faceful of porcelain one way or another. This time I wasn't going to kneel before it and beg for forgiveness. Then there was that second.
It was though time slowed for one second and I had a decision to make. What could I do? I could attempt to brace my face and hope for the least amount of damage. I could try to grab something (the curtain, the rod, my boys) and hope for the best.
I try to be realistic, but I am competitive. I hate to lose. When I play sports I'm pretty competitive, but not with other people, only with myself. I want to do the best I can. If I give it everything I can and I lose, I can accept that. I walk over to the victor and say nice game. It's when I don't give it what I can. It's when I go through the motions that I get upset with myself. If you didn't really want to do it, then why did you? If you try to be realistic, logic cannot be far behind.
I had a second, maybe less to make a decision. I chose not to give up or make some half-assed attempt to stop the inevitable. I regained control. I reached out with my right arm as I was falling and pushed as hard as I could against the wall in front of me. The thrust redirected me as now instead of falling hard to my right on the side of my head, I was now falling hard to the right but more towards landing on my back.
Thud! There I laid, flat on my back, soaking wet and completely lathered up. I cleared the toilet and sink, and while my feet were dangled over the edge of the bathtub and still feeling the gentle flow of the warm water, my body was laying flat on the carpet and floor. I think I waited at least a minute before getting up. I stared at the light directly above me. I was okay. I did the best I could. I fell but I did it my way. I can live with that.
As I began to chuckle I thought about that moment. That lovely moment when I did what I could. I'm fascinated with that second. If I could do that in a second, what could I do with a minute, an hour, a day? I suppose time will tell.
All my life I've had the occasional slip in the shower. Perhaps a little soap gets underneath my foot and then I move the foot and slip a touch, catch myself and say whoa that was close. Not this time. This time I slipped and could not regain my balance. For the first time in my life I couldn't stop it. I had only been in the shower for a minute. I gave myself a full body lather with the body wash, but before I could rinse and repeat I lost control.
As I slipped, it dawned on me that I was going down. Then there was that second. In my cramped little bathroom the toilet and sink are right alongside the bathtub/shower. I was going down and out of the corner of my eye I saw where I was going. I was gonna get a faceful of porcelain one way or another. This time I wasn't going to kneel before it and beg for forgiveness. Then there was that second.
It was though time slowed for one second and I had a decision to make. What could I do? I could attempt to brace my face and hope for the least amount of damage. I could try to grab something (the curtain, the rod, my boys) and hope for the best.
I try to be realistic, but I am competitive. I hate to lose. When I play sports I'm pretty competitive, but not with other people, only with myself. I want to do the best I can. If I give it everything I can and I lose, I can accept that. I walk over to the victor and say nice game. It's when I don't give it what I can. It's when I go through the motions that I get upset with myself. If you didn't really want to do it, then why did you? If you try to be realistic, logic cannot be far behind.
I had a second, maybe less to make a decision. I chose not to give up or make some half-assed attempt to stop the inevitable. I regained control. I reached out with my right arm as I was falling and pushed as hard as I could against the wall in front of me. The thrust redirected me as now instead of falling hard to my right on the side of my head, I was now falling hard to the right but more towards landing on my back.
Thud! There I laid, flat on my back, soaking wet and completely lathered up. I cleared the toilet and sink, and while my feet were dangled over the edge of the bathtub and still feeling the gentle flow of the warm water, my body was laying flat on the carpet and floor. I think I waited at least a minute before getting up. I stared at the light directly above me. I was okay. I did the best I could. I fell but I did it my way. I can live with that.
As I began to chuckle I thought about that moment. That lovely moment when I did what I could. I'm fascinated with that second. If I could do that in a second, what could I do with a minute, an hour, a day? I suppose time will tell.
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Hope your well.
MWAH!
Jazz