Dear Friends … Don’t be afraid to get wet

It’s not obvious, but I’m standing on top of a big slippery tree in this photo. Why? Because I’m a monkey, and trees lure me. I want to climb. I want to swing. I want to engage with nature. I want to practice balancing. I want to remember that it’s okay to fall. Ah, I like that–my permission to fall down!

I know how crucial it is to risk landing on my butt. I was born breach. And I spent the first half my life trying to land on my feet, trying to be what I thought was “normal” and avoid embarrassment. That was my worst fear. I could handle the fall, as long as nobody saw me stumble.

So, you can imagine how grateful I am, as I stumble and fall publicly, to know that it’s okay. And what makes it more than okay, is the learning. The bounce is commensurate with the force of the fall.

I’m not defending the fall. I’m using it as well as I know how. And I’m seeking third-party objectivity. Smiling, too, at the generosity and kindness of humans. I am neither victor, nor martyr. But I’ve discovered that being true to myself can look like a bloodbath.

It hurts more than I knew it could. I had to talk myself off the road the other day, finding a safe place to pull over and get sick. I’ve struggled through tears trying to utter words I needed to say to strangers. But I love being human. I love growing. And I am resolved to stand stronger and wiser, with more, rather than less, to give. I can do that.

And I hope this reminds you that YOU can do that. I hope it inspires you to risk falling. We don’t get very far in life without falling down. So, we do well to value landing on our butt. The fall doesn’t define us. The bounce does. The bottom half of my swimsuit is wet.

I’m learning to be more conscious of what lures me, though. And I’m learning how many times to bounce before walking away. I could have, and perhaps I have, written these sentiments decades ago. But I am not sliding backwards, I am reaching deeper layers. And as long as I live, I will find still another layer in the vast unconscious of my humanness.

As I do, I am likely to land on my butt, again. I’m not going to let that scare me, though. And when you get the chance to sit it out or fall, I hope you fall.

Love smiles,