Sorry! So many thoughts come to mind, my friend. First, ouch. Falling sucks on so many levels: potential injury, public embarrassment, resultant laundry and the heart-stopping prospect of ruining one's favorite pair of artistically distressed jeans.

Second, you sound like a trained professional in how to fall. Are you telling us that you had the presence of mind to squat in order to lessen the impact? Wow. I'm impressed. You should get some of your industry buddies together and recreate the scene, film it and post it online for us as a teachable moment. By way of contrast, the last time I fell all I thought was, "it's not so bad, really/hurtling through space/it's a bit like flying, a bit like/the Fall from grace" until, THUD, my spiritual-poetic moment passed and my makeup took on not altogether unflattering earth tones.

Recently I wrote a song for my late father, the first line of which is, "Father, I find you in the fall." If you are an extremely perceptive reader with even cursory religious literacy, you might pick up the subtle spiritual reference there...LOL. When I read your post, it came to mind and got me thinkin' again, even as a gaggle of boys faux-fight like Pokemon in the next room: How else might we use the metaphor of falling to frame our experience as PWP (or with any life-altering diagnosis)? Or our experience of rising, for that matter. We fall into sleep. Fall in love. Rise in love. Rise up. Fall for it, or him, or her. Rise to the challenge. Fall into shape. Fall ill. Rise like the sun. What do you think?

I look forward to my next fall, when I will try to think about damage control instead of poetry! Feel better, Charlie. Love, Rose