I fall down

This morning I was coming down the stairs from the living room to the front door, a case of seven treads I've gone up and down several times a day for fourteen years.  And on the second to last tread, for some reason, I stepped into midair and fell right down onto the tile floor, sort of on my side, with my head leaning on the door.

In the movies and on TV, falls like this are usually shown in slow motion, and one can see the many ways the falling person might save herself.  Not so in real life.  This happened so fast.  

Sweet Hubby was right there, and I think this was terrifying for him, because for an instant he didn't know if this fall would be fatal.  I knew in an instant that it wasn't, and after a quick self-assessment, I laughed and assured him over and over that I was all right.  It took some time but eventually we were both smiling and laughing, with me making a joke about how I don't want SH to come up with some plan to assure that this never happens again, and SH joking back that the plan already exists, as he pointed to the handrails.  

Now, hours later, I have a slightly abraded bruise on my left forearm and absolutely no other damage.  I'm glad I didn't hit my head on the floor, and I'm glad I exercise as often as I do, because my bones are still strong.  So it all turned out just fine, and now it's just another story.

Someday something is going to happen.  It might be as fast as today's fall, and it might be slow and take a long time.  Personally, I'd prefer slow and long.  However unpleasant it might get at the end, I do like the idea of being able to say my good-byes.  I won't know until I get there, of course, how it's going to go.  But someday something is going to happen.  I'm just glad that today wasn't the day and this was not the thing. 

Weight

 I have thought about my weight every single day since I was about 10 years old, usually many times a day.  I've thought about it when I was thin.  I've thought about it when I was heavy.  I thought about it when I was in Hollywood pursuing an acting career.  I thought about it when I was office manager for a Beverly Hills real estate office. I thought about it when I moved to Seattle as single woman and was looking for love.  I think about it now that I am married to a man who acts as though I'm beautiful no matter how I look.

I think about it and fret about it and make private promises about it.  But I don't ever actually go on a diet.

Here's the thing about diets.  Going on a diet means choosing something uncomfortable (kale) over something comfortable and comforting (chocolate).  And making that choice every day, supposedly for the rest of one's life.  No wonder it's so hard.

The times I've been thin have been either because I was very active (3 hours of contra dancing 3 times a week, for example), or sick (pneumonia, or a 2 week sore throat, or when my thyroid when into hyper-drive).  So I've just never gotten into the habit or discipline of dieting.  And now, even though I'm still fairly active, I don't do that rigorous dancing, don't have the metabolism of youth, and am hardly ever sick and never for long.

A few nights ago, I lay on the living room floor for a while listening to music.  During that peaceful time, I put my hands on my belly and let them rest there, and for just a moment I had a glimpse of what it might feel like to leave myself alone; to accept that I eat what I eat; I look like what I look like; people see me how they see me.  I saw what it might be like not to think about my weight but just to live unselfconsciously.

It was very nice.  For that moment.