Drop and roll

Originally, this would have been titled (assuming I dared to post it) “After the Fall.”  It would have gone something like this….

When was the last time you laid in the grass and felt the sod, like waves beneath a raft, vibrating and tickling your bare legs?  When was the last time you felt the warmth of the earth as you discovered a pig, a bird and a horse’s head in the clouds above you?  When was the last time you watched the clouds dance and the cottonwood tree puffs skate upon the breeze as you played the piano with your fingers tapping upon your stomach? When was the last time you stretched beneath the sky, innocent as a child and with an adult voice giggled, ‘Oh sweet mercy that was not good but this is, this is simply grand.”

And that would have been all I would have had to say.

No, the body told me she could not walk. I am stubborn. Also fearful if I give in one time the next will be easier and the next even easier, and so I walked.  And the grass to the side of the hill welcomed me, as did the clouds. The body said “enough” and the heart whispered back, “yes, but look and see….” And so I did.

I am old enough to remember the drop and roll drills in grammar school.  In case of a nuclear attack, we were supposed to jump under our wooden desks.  Even a child’s brain, perhaps not perfectly, could figure out that the little wooden desk was not going to save me.  Somehow, because we practiced, it made us feel safe. We knew how to drop and roll. Maybe there is a lesson there.  What we practice – whether we realize we do or not- becomes safe.  Some practices delude us into thinking we’re  safe, like the wooden desk in a nuclear attack.  After all, it’s what others told us to do and we listen. Other practices are more daring and take us ever so close to the Breath of Life.  Maybe if I practice seeing "falls" or when I try and think I’ve failed,  as a chance to stroke the earth and play with the clouds upon a raft of warm green grass, well….. who can call that "fall"?  Maybe it’s just a drop and roll to feel the earth’s tickle and a tiny glimmer of the Breath of Life.