Falling into Discernment

Photo by John Fornander on Unsplash

About two weeks ago preparing for an evening walk with my four-legged companion, what I thought was a step turned into a grand jete that did not end well. Unbeknownst to me, in the dark, Pierre saw something I didn’t and bolted out the door, obviously to protect me. I ended up face down at the bottom of four stone steps onto concrete, untangling a leash and fumbling with a flashlight. Pierre was sitting calmly staring at me as if to say: “What are you doing on the ground?” Assessing my state, a scratched knee, skinned hand, bleeding lip and other parts moveable I prepared to stand up. Pierre shook off and bounced into the house in front of me as I searched for first-aid ointments and ice packs to settle into the evening.

My recovery was slower than his. Every time I moved I discovered another place in my body, from my back to my arms that braced me from a more serious fall. The experience wasn’t something I could just “shake off.” I received it as a more than subtle tap on my shoulder from spirit to slow down and pause, which is exactly what I’ve been doing.

Now, you might think I’m taking this fall to the ground a bit far. But, think about it. I could have required emergency care, needing broken bones reset or other parts adjusted. A few scrapes and sore muscles is actually something for which to be grateful. I’ve fallen many times before but for some reason the message I received this time was to pay attention. Because the recovery has been constant, an achy muscle response in just about every movement reminded me of the willingness of the body to repair itself even without my attention.

Falling is actually a metaphor for much of my adult life. I’ve fallen into jobs, new locations, relationships, and opportunities not knowing the outcome but ready to experience something new, most of the time. Facilitated by curiosity, seeking change or something better I would take a leap. Not all my falls had what I would call successful recoveries, but they certainly were filled with growth, whether I accepted it at the time or bristled at the challenge. I’m at another transition in my life—they seem to come in cycles—and like the seasons they are different, filled with the unknown and opportunities to bear witness to newness, change, and even transformation.

Lately, I’ve been attempting to be more alert to a lot of things like how I respond to what people say and wondering why I reacted one way or another, or at all. I’ve been practicing appreciating this particular season that in my part of the country which has been short on rain and is forcing the leaves to change more quickly through their colorful hues of red, yellow, and orange before falling to the ground, almost the next day it seems. I’ve been noticing how darkness covers the land at the end of day and earlier with the time change. And I’ve become more aware of how the moon sits in the sky and passes through different phases and how that movement affects me and my moods.

I don’t think it’s unreasonable to contemplate my latest fall. Being reflective and nonjudgmental are attributes that require work but even more so the idea of not rushing around and attempting to cram so much more than is needed into a single day doesn’t make sense anymore. Living fearlessly and courageously into another decade is something I’m seeking to embrace even as I admit how much I dislike change, the only constant!

You may be experiencing a transition(s) in your life and all that it brings coupled with seismic global changes. We fall. We get up. We fall brush ourselves off and stand tall. We fall to become movers of mountains. Each fall brings us closer to our destiny and to Truth.

My latest experience of falling reminds me that letting go, trusting, and having faith in the God I always talk about are necessary tools for the spiritual journey. We are held by that invisible force and while we can’t see the whole picture what we can see is enough for us to keep getting up, putting one foot in front of the other, and expressing gratitude for the blessings the fall brings on.