Fear led to a change in course and a mishap — and then an insight
By Annie Katz
When I was a kid and my mother thought I was misbehaving, she used to say, “Straighten up and fly right!” Sometimes life knocks me for a loop, which is nature’s way of saying the same thing.
About 10 years ago, I left at dawn to walk to the beach the way I did nearly every morning. I lived in a small town in Maui, and I walked so early that I rarely saw other people. The island was quiet and plumeria blossoms perfumed the neighborhood.
I wore sunglasses because the day before a friend had convinced me that I should protect my eyes that way. I usually walked without glasses, but newly afraid of hurting my eyes, I wore the only sunglasses I owned, prescription glasses for driving. When I walked down the steps from my cottage, the glasses distorted my vision, so I was careful and used the handrail.
A few blocks away from home, on a sidewalk that was broken from tree roots and nearly blocked with overgrown shrubs and hedges, a rough-looking bearded stranger walked toward me. A big unleashed dog walked behind him on the narrow sidewalk.
I was afraid to pass the stranger and his dog, so I walked down to the road. I thought that walking on the road would avoid any awkwardness, but as I stepped off a concrete driveway onto the asphalt of the road, I tripped and fell flat on my face. I landed so hard that I knocked myself out.
The next thing I knew I woke up hurting, confused, and surprised to be lying facedown in the road. My sunglasses had flown off my face, and the right side of my body was scraped from head to foot. I moved cautiously to make sure everything still worked. My wrist hurt and my ribs felt bruised, but I didn’t think any bones were broken. The bearded stranger and his dog were standing near me in the road, watching me. I realized I must have been unconscious long enough for them to get to me from a block away. The man asked if I was OK.
I wasn’t sure, but I told him I was fine. He waited while I caught my breath, cautiously sat up, and checked the wounds on my face, hand, elbow, knee, ankle and foot to make sure the bleeding wasn’t too bad.
The man asked how he could help. I told him I needed a minute to think, and he and his dog stayed still a few steps away from me.
When I felt strong enough, I asked the man to help me stand up. He offered me his hand, and soon I was standing and ready to continue my morning walk.
After he was sure I was OK and I’d thanked him for his help, he said, “I’m sorry my hands are dirty.”
That melted my heart, and I said, “You were kind to me, and I’m very grateful.”
He nodded and stepped back, and he and his big dog went on their way.
I must have been in shock to continue walking to the beach as if nothing had happened. I should have come straight home, because my chin, cheek, and eyebrow were scraped, bloody, and asphalt dirty. Same with my right hand, elbow, knee, ankle and foot. My thin cotton top and shorts were torn and stained from the asphalt. My ribs were badly bruised, and I had trouble breathing deeply for several weeks after that fall.
When I thought back about that morning, I realized that my fears had rendered me helpless and bleeding in the road, and the stranger that I had wanted to avoid watched over me and helped me get back on my feet safely.
Falling flat on my face was a clear reminder to wake up, pay attention, and greet the world with kindness and curiosity rather than with fear and suspicion. I wanted to welcome reality courageously, with unobstructed vision, a peaceful heart and an open mind. Instead of cowering and running away, I needed to straighten up and fly right.
Annie Katz is a retired educator living in Ashland. She has studied philosophy and spiritual practices all her life and now writes novels for fun. Readers may contact Annie at katzannie33@gmail.com.
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