Okay we learned the physical form of this lesson the hard way. Our middle child is on the end of a very trippy phase of her life. Meaning she always had some bump or scratch from her latest encounter with the ground. She is also notorious for her brilliantly curious bad ideas.
So it was on an escalator ride in downtown Tulsa (on one of our tunnel tour/lunch with daddy days) that I first realized how dangerous those things can be. I held my youngest in a baby carrier dubbed "the pouch" as the five of us stepped on the climbing stairs. We did our usual one...two...threeeee to let everyone know what's coming. About half way up my three year old decides to try hanging from the banister (which moves) but gets her shoes all up on the glass and metal side (which stays) and in about half a second she is tumbling down the thing.
I was mortified. I was terrified. I was also still pouched with a 10 month old!
My reflexes kicked in and I grabbed her, first by her jacket which began to slip off of her, and then by the only other thing I could reach with out sending me and the baby tumbling after...her hair! OUCH! I quickly snatched the rest of her up and began with whispered comfort and apologies. I was sorry for grabbing her hair but I knew that I had to do it or she just would have kept falling. I had actually seen the picture in my mind, it was awful, the rate at which she normally regained balance was no match for the slow but unrelenting pulling of the ground from underneath her.
A few months later after moving to Chicago, the memory returned to me as a picture. This time it was me falling. Right in the middle of a bad day that represented a bad month which stood for a whole lifetime of should haves and what's wrong with mes.
Failure after failure had me feeling this way. Meditating only on the failures and the past (even just the past few hours) is a sure way to keep those feelings coming.
From this angle all my decision making becomes clouded with echos of my previous choices. Shame. Regret. Shouldhaveknownbetter. These sit like grease and banana peels on each step as it rises beneath me and I try to get a grip and plant my feet.
This can apply to any failure or perceived failure really; Catastrophic or basic, sinful or simply absent minded. Failed to get up on time, lied on that form I filled out, forgot to return something to the library, acted cruel towards my child, couldn't complete a task, didn't pray, let the morning pass...can't...get...up.
As I tumble, bump and scrape, how I wish these were normal stairs where I could give up striving and just hit the bottom. Or could someone push the emergency button and stop time before I make another mistake? Give me a chance to get my bearings.
There are yellow signs near the escalators here that say "hold on to your children" Like a child, I need to be held onto.
