The Art of: Falling, Hard

We were in Ottawa IL yesterday for Elizabeth and Aaron’s wedding, afterward Monica, Ryan, Cortney, Tim and I all decided to go check out Starved Rock—we were ten minutes away, we really couldn’t not check it out.

We were all in dresses and dress shirts so we already looked and felt out of place walking around in the woods, but there were walking paths so it wasn’t that big of a deal. Or so I thought.

I believe Mother Nature has a way of always coming around at just the right time to put me back in place. A few weeks ago for example, I was making fun of white trash people and fat families while Ryan and I were sitting in the park and then a bee stung me. I’m sure I deserved that one.

Yesterday though, I wasn’t behaving too badly. I hadn’t really been making fun of anyone except myself for wearing a dress in the forest. But then I had to walk up a waterfall so I could look at the bigger waterfall behind that waterfall. It was spectacular. Almost awesome in the true sense of the word. I was wearing sandals but had taken them off and had walked up the waterfall just fine. Coming down was an entirely different story.

My life did not flash before my eyes. Though I think it should have. I could have easily died by slamming my head against the rocks, never to be my snappy anger-filled—critical self again, or I could have hit my head and turned into a totally new (mentally disabled) person in my old body. But alas, I made it out alive. (obviously)

So I was sliding down this waterfall. My ass hits the ice cold water my dress flies up, all the strangers stare. Their mouths hang open. They wait for my next move; they wait to see if I will move. In my mind I jump up out of the giant stone slide, but in reality I sort of fall back up like a 98 year old grandma would. The strangers are still staring.

“It’s okay. You can laugh,” I say. “If I saw someone fall I would.”

Then this dude says, “We just want to make sure you’re okay.

“Yeah I’m fine. Really.”

“Oh and you ruined your pretty dress.”

Aghugher!

My dress!

My pretty dress!

Do you think I really give a flying fuck about my dress right after I just almost DIED!!!!!! You’ve got to be kidding me.

I keep walking.

“It’s just a dress,” I say as I ring the water out. And move onward with my life. They’re all still staring. I would have preferred they laughed.

I will admit I was pretty shaken up. I think it was my pride that got hurt the most, but again that’s why Mother Nature is around to kick my ass sometimes. To remind me that I am not perfect. That I will fall. That I might dirty up my dress, but at least I will, as long as I am alive, always be willing to climb up the littler waterfall to see the bigger one. (even if it means a bruise or two.)