I felt my elbow as it collided with the pavement today. And my toe, I felt it too as it wedged against the truck, saving me from a hard fall. I felt my thigh as it crashed into a supportive wheelbarrow. But foremost I felt my ego. My shame. I felt my rosy cheeks turn a deeper shade as I stumbled.
My coworker helped untangle me as I balanced myself precariously on one arm, feet up and wedged awkwardly. A circus act without the circus.
I had been thinking about my age when the fall happened. I was admiring my co worker’s youth and strength; noticing that my own seemed to be waning. Seasons change, I thought, let me celebrate the fall of my life, when quite literally I fell out of the truck. Half-heartedly supporteing my weight until my co worker came to the rescue.
With gentle manner she released my wedged foot and removed the obstacles, being sure not to crack a smile until she was certain it was only my ego that was bruised. The only thing broken was my pride and I let out a howl of laughter as I admitted this to her. She laughed too. Tears welled from the shock, But I blinked them away, and then went about moving the rest of the soil from the back of the pick-up to the garden.
It wasn’t until I lay here tonight, contemplating the day’s events that I began to truly feel my body. It is calling for attention with my leg somehow still throbbing hours later. So I feel it. I now give my body the attention it is screaming for. And I feel at peace, as I thank this body for the practice.