Fear of Falling
The son of a friend used to teach snowboarding.
The first class comprised of a single lesson - "learning how to fall." From one moment to the next, students practiced falling and getting up...falling and getting up. The instructor knew, from playful experience and a myriad of injuries, falling was an inevitable part of the sport. And, the only way to learn how to have fun snowboarding was to move past the fear of falling. I hate the snow and cold, but I wish I'd had a lesson from that instructor!
In any gym class, I was among the last students picked for a team. I didn't want balls thrown at me. I didn't want to run toward or away from something. And I really, really didn't want to fall. So, I took almost no risks, and never got injured in any way. That totally worked for me in that limited environment, except, it turns out that band of risk-taking was not nearly as narrow as I'd perceived.
At 18, when I moved from "small-town" Connecticut to Boston, I got fired from my job selling photocopiers.
After two weeks of going door-to-door in Dorchester, equipped with a street map and about three dollars worth of gas, I hadn't managed to make a single sale. I was devastated! I had no idea what to do with this manifestation of events. I reigned as the only student to sell a magazine to the man who taught us how to sell magazines, for our senior year fundraiser. I won one sales contest after another, in high school and in my job, selling cruises for the American Cruise Lines. How could I get fired after two weeks?!
Following my termination, I spent the weekend in Connecticut with my mom, licking my wounds. Then, with my new roommate, I went back to the city, moved into our East Boston third floor apartment, and found another job. This time, selling help wanted advertising for the "Shopper's Guide." I didn't make much money, but I did manage to sell some advertising, so I kept my job, until I chose a new employer six months later.
Whether I wanted the practice or not, every time I tried something new...a job, a living situation, friendships, romantic relationships...you name it...I got far more falling experience, than I could have imagined. It was absolutely more than I bargained for, when my friend, Susan, and I decided, in the dairy aisle of Stop and Shop, to move to Boston together months before!
It's not that I didn't mess up during those first 18 years of my life. I definitely did! But I'd also learned not to stretch too far outside of my comfort zone. And, given my never-quite-stable family life, I chose my risks with great care. But, I mistook playing small for safety.
Nearly 20 years ago, a new thing started happening.
I began to literally fall - physically - just boom! I think some weird thing happened to my balance, when my hormones crossed paths with a miscarriage and the funky drugs required to clear any cancer threat from my system. It was the oddest phenomena.
I remember hosting an open house for a client in Winchester. The corner lot home offered a great yard - a portion of which was fully fenced. As I stood on one of the entry steps, at the rear of the home, discussing property lines and possibilities, I suddenly found myself falling sideways, three steps up from the concrete pad. I have no idea what happened, but it started an irksome trend.
The same woman, whose son taught snowboarding, enjoys walking when we visit. I simply won't do it anymore. I've twisted an ankle; crashed down onto a brick sidewalk (nearly taking her down with me...eek!); and, caused enough self-injury that I've learned to limit our time together to indoor, sedentary activities. I suspect I become far more engaged in the depth of conversation, thus losing awareness of my feet placement, but regardless, it's not fun.
Even on holiday, I unwittingly broke my wrist a few years ago -caused by a stumble outside a weekly market in South Africa. In that case, I didn't know the severity of my injuries until I returned home nearly two weeks later. While these few snippets illustrate the mania, they offer only a glimpse.
While in Mexico last month, literal and metaphorical stumbles wove a tapestry in my consciousness.
The threads revealed many times - long past my youth - that I've fallen. The mistakes made in step-parenting, the coaching programs I've offered that never got off the ground, the months of resistance I had to selling my office, in part, because I thought it meant another fall. Each of these presented itself to be witnessed - not judged.
What came out of this weaving? A decision: "I don't want to live my life in fear of falling." True, I'll likely take care as I physically move through the world, because this body seems to be particularly vulnerable to going splat, resulting in injury. However, even knowing this propensity, I trekked through the jungles of Mexico to see the Muyil and Coba ruins, and more importantly, to follow the call of the howler monkeys - because I love them! In my raspberry, sleeveless maxi dress and water/walking shoes, I flicked off the nibbling ants, kept away from the snakes in the trees, and surprisingly avoided tripping over the elevated roots of the Ficus trees reaching to one another across the jungle floor.
THAT is how I want to live! A kind of mindfulness combined with an abundance of enthusiasm. I absolutely have moments applying this expansive energetic signature to other parts of my life.
Still, I "lived small," as my old coach once described it, for so long (since childhood); it requires ongoing attention and vigilance to choose differently. With awareness, I have learned to stretch and stumble in new and varied ways.
I notice, in retrospect, no matter how uncomfortable, I never regret the falls. I always learn something - even if what I learn is to appreciate my ability to get back up again. Because that is no small thing!
Well, if you know me at all, you know that the universe likes to remind me of its absurd sense of humor.
So, after being in Mexico for 17 days walking the rough and tumble paths of four different ruins sites, plus the jungle visit at Punta Laguna - responding to the call of the wild howlers - and a soaking wet day at the Akumal Monkey Sanctuary, where I managed to safely navigate a set of uneven, wet stairs in the pouring rain, in my Croc flip-flops, to take cover in the cave entrance of the property's cenote - all without incident or injury; we arrived in Miami and caught an Uber to our condo building. In the newly falling rain, we transferred luggage to our car and proceeded to the building lobby. We navigated the shiny marble floor toward the elevator, and as I took that last step to hit the "up" arrow, I slipped and fell!
Yup, that's just what happens. I'm going to stumble and tumble. I may bruise or sprain or break along the way, and I can heal and learn and grow from the experience. With that awareness, I am opening to new ways of falling; because, I'd rather go down following my enthusiasm with mindfulness, than staying small and pretending it's safety.
One aspect of this mission will be to roll out a variety of new coaching offerings over the next year. If you'd like to play and fall and grow with the aid of someone who knows how to get back up, I hope you'll join me.
The details of the first offering may be found on my website. This virtual gathering, "What To Say?," will occur on Wednesday, February 23rd. If you are in a situation, where you find yourself struggling for words, bring it, and we'll create a bridge for you to move from where you are to a new space with a clear voice. I look forward to sharing the experience with you.
I wish you gentleness in your wobbles, and invite you give yourself permission to fall, free of self-judgment. In this way, I hope you are a soft place for you to land.
With love and encouragement,
Joanne